THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


MERRY  WIVES  OF  WINDSOR. 


THE  WORKS  OF 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARL 


FROM    THE    TEXT    OF  THE    REV.    ALEXANDER    DYCE  S 

FOURTH    EDITION,    WITH    AN    ARRANGEMENT 

OF    HIS    GLOSSARY 


IN  TWELVE  VOLUMES 


VOL.    XIL 


NEW  YORK 

THE    MERSHON   COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  iS^^ 


CONTENTS  VOL  Xir. 

KING    HENRY    VIII. 

THE    TWO    NOBLE    KINSMEN. 

EDWARD    THE    THIRD. 

GLOSSARY. 


572268 

THEATRE  ARTS 


KING  HENRY  VIII. 


DRAMATIS     PERSON/E. 


King  Henry  the  Eighth. 

Cardinal  Wolsey. 

Cardinal  Campeius. 

Capucius,    ambassador    from 
ilie  Emperor  Charles  V. 

Cranmer,  aichbishop  of  Can- 
terbury. 

Duke  of  Norfolk. 

Duke  of  Buckingham. 

Duke  of  Suffolk. 

Earl  of  Surrey. 

Lord  Chamberlain. 

Lord  Chancellor. 

Gard'.ner,    king's    secretary, 
af'.ervt'ards    bishop  of  Win- 

•   rhester. 

P'''ihop  of  Lincoln. 
,ORD  Abergavenny. 

Lord  Sands. 

'Sir  Hknrv  Guildford. 

/iR  Thomas  Lovell. 

Sir  Anthony  T)enny. 

Sir  Nicholas  Vaux. 

Secretaries  to  Wolsey. 

Cromwell,  servant  to  Wolsey, 


Griffith,  gentleman-ushei  to 
Queen  Katharine. 

Three  Gentlemen. 

Doctor  Butts,  physician  to 
the  King. 

Garter  King-at-Arms. 

Surveyor  to  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham. 

Brandon,  and  a  Sergeant-at- 
Arms. 

Door-keeper  of  the  Council- 
chamber.  Porter,  and  his 
Man. 

Page  to  Gardiner.     A  Crier. 


Queen  Katharine,  wife  to 
King  Henry,  afterwards  di- 
vorced. 

Annk  Bullen,  her  maid  of 
honor,  afterwards  queen. 

An  old  Lady,  friend  to  Anne 
Bullen, 

P.\riENCE.  woman  to  Queen 
Katharine. 


Several    Bishops,    Lords,    and    Ladies  in    the    Dumb-shows 

Women  attending  upon  the  Queen  ;  Scribes,  Officers, 

Guards,  and  other  Attendants. 


Spirits. 

Scene — Chiejly  in  Lo>idon  aiid  Westminster , 
Ktmbolton, 

K.H.VIU.  ^J  VII.  asfi. 


once  at 


Act.  I."]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  [.Hcenti 

PROLOGUE. 

I  come  no  more  to  make  you  laugh  :  things  now, 

That  bear  a  weighty  and  a  serious  brow. 

Sat!,  iiigh,  and  working,  full  of  state  and  woe, 

Such  noble  scenes  as  draw  the  eye  to  flow, 

A\'e  now  present.     Those  that  can  pity,  here 

May,  if  they  think  it  well,  let  fall  a  tear; 

The  subject  will  deserve  it.     Such  as  give 

Their  money  out  of  hope  they  may  believe, 

May  here  find  truth  too.     Those  that  come  to  see 

Only  a  show  or  two,  and  so  agree 

The  play  may  pass,  if  they  be  still  and  willing, 

I'll  undertake  may  see  away  their  shilling 

Richly  in  two  short  hours.     Only  they 

That  come  to  hear  a  merry  bawdy  play, 

A  noise  of  targets,  or  to  see  a  fellow 

In  a  long  motley  coat  guarded  with  yellow. 

Will  be  deceiv'd  ;  for,  gentle  hearers,  know. 

To  rank  our  chosen  truth  with  such  a  show 

As  fool  and  fight  is,  beside  forfeiting 

Our  own  brains,  and  th'  opinion  that  we  bring. 

To  make  that  only  true  we  now  intend, 

Will  leave  us  ne'er  an  understanding  friend. 

Therefore,  for  goodness'  sake,  and  as  you're  known 

The  first  and  happiest  hearers  of  the  town, 

Be  sad,  as  we  would  make  ye :  think  ye  see 

The  very  persons  of  our  noble  story 

As  they  were  living;  think  you  see  them  great. 

And  follow'd  with  the  general  throng  and  sweat 

Of  thousand  friends;  then,  in  a  moment,  see 

How  soon  this  mightiness  meets  misery  : 

And.  if  you  can  be  merr\'  then,  I'll  say 

A  man  may  weep  upon  his  wedding-day. 

ACT  I. 

Scene  I.   Londo?i,  An  aiite-chamber  In  tJie palace, 

Entc}\  on  one  side,  the  Duke  of  NORFOJ^K  ;  07i  the  other, 

the  Duke  of  Buckingham  and  the 

Lord  Abergavenny. 

Buck.  Good  morrow,  and  well  met.  HowKaveye  done 
Since  last  we  saw  in  France? 

VII.  256.  lK.*(.vut.  4. 


/tc/l]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  \Sctnt  I. 

Nor.  I  thank  your  grace. 

Healthful ;  and  ever  snice  a  fresh  admirei 
Of  what  I  saw  there. 

Buck.  An  untimely  ague 

Stay'd  me  a  prisoner  in  my  chamber,  when 
Those  suns  of  glory,  those  two  lights  of  men, 
Met  in  the  vale  of  Andren. 

Nor.  'Twixt  Guines  and  Arde  : 

I  was  then  present,  saw  them  salute  on  horseback ; 
Beheld  them  when  they  lighted,  how  they  clung 
In  their  embracement,  as  they  grew  together; 
Which    had   they,  what   four  thron'd  ones   could   have 

weigh 'd 
Such  a  compounded  one? 

Buck.  All  the  whole  time 

I  was  my  chamber's  prisoner. 

Nor.  Then  you  lost 

The  view  of  earthly  glory  :  men  might  say. 
Till  this  time  pomp  was  single,  but  now  married 
To  one  above  itself.     Each  following  day 
Became  the  next  day's  master,  till  the  last  . 
Made  former  wonders  its  :  to-day,  the  French, 
All  clinquant,  all  in  gold,  like  heathen  gods. 
Shone  down  the  English  ;  and,  to-morrow,  they 
Made  Britain  India;  every  man  that  stood 
Show'd  like  a  mine.     Their  dwarfish  pages  were 
As  cherubins,  all  gilt :  the  madams  too. 
Not  us'd  to  toil,  did  almost  sweat  to  bear 
The  pride  upon  them,  that  their  very  labor 
Was  to  them  as  a  painting  :  now  this  masque 
Was  cried  incomparable ;  and  th'  ensuing  night 
Made  it  a  fool  and  beggar.     The  two  kings. 
Equal  in  luster,  were  now  best,  now  worst. 
As  presence  did  present  them  ;  him  in  eye. 
Still  him  in  praise  :  and,  being  present  both, 
'Twas  said  they  eaw  but  one  ;  and  no  discerner 
Durst  wag  his  tongue  in  censure.     When  these  suns  — 
For  so  they  phrase  'em  —  by  their  heralds  challeng'd 
The  noble  spirits  to  arms,  they  did  perform 
Beyond  thought's  compass  ;  that  former  fabulous  story, 
Being  now  seen  possible  enough,  got  credit. 
That  Bevis  was  believ'd. 

KJi.VUl.  t.]  VII.  SS). 


^c//.]  KIXG  HEXRY  THE  EIGHTH.  iSccnc h 

Buck.  0,  }"ou  g-o  far. 

Xor.  As  I  belong"  to  worship,  and  affect 
In  honor  honesty,  the  tract  of  every  thing 
Would  by  a  good  discourser  lose  some  life, 
Which  action's  self  was- tongue  to.     All  was  royal; 
To  the  disposing  of  it  naught  rebell'd, 
Order  gave  each  thing  view;  the  ofifice  did 
Distinctly  his  full  function. 

Buck.  Who  did  guide, 

I  mean,  who  set  the  body  and  the  limbs 
Of  this  great  sport  together,  as  you  guess  ? 

No7'.  One,  certes,  that  promises  no  element 
In  such  a  business. 

Buck.  I  pray  you,  who,  my  lord  ? 

Nor.  All  this  was  ordered  by  the  good  discretion 
Of  the  right-reverend  Cardinal  of  York. 

Buck.   The  devil  speed  him  !  no  man's  pie  is  freed 
From  his  ambitious  finger.     What  had  he 
To  do  in  these  fierce  vanities.*'     I  wonder 
That  such  a  keech  can  with  his  very  bulk 
Take  up  the  rays  o'  the  beneficial  sun, 
And  keep  it  from  the  earth. 

Xor.  Surely,  sir, 

There's  in  him  stuff  that  puts  him  to  these  ends ; 
For,  being  not  propp'd  by  ancestr}-,  whose  grace 
Chalks  successors  their  way;  nor  call'd  upon 
For  high  feats  done  to  the  crown  ;  neither  allied 
To  eminent  assistants  ;  but,  spider-like, 
Out  of's  self-drawing  web,  he  gives  us  note 
The  force  of  his  own  merit  makes  his  way; 
A  gift  that  heaven  gives;  which  buys  for  him 
A  place  next  to  the  king. 

Ahcr.  I  cannot  tell 

What  heaven  hath  given  him, —  let  some  graver  eye 
Pierce  into  that ;  but  I  can  see  his  pride 
Peep  through  each  part  of  him  :  whence  has  he  that? 
If  not  from  hell,  the  devil  is  a  niggard  ; 
Or  has  given  all  before,  and  he  begins 
A  new  hell  in  himself. 

Buck.  Why  the  devil. 

Upon  this  French  going-out,  took  he  upon  him, 
SVithout  the  privity  o'  the  king,  t'  appoint 

VII.  258.  tK.H.via  & 


^c7/.l  KING  HENRY  THE  EK.IITH.  [Scfne  l. 

Wlio  should  attend  on  him  ?     He  makes  up  the  file 

Of  all  the  gentry  ;  for  tlie  most  part  such 

To  whom  as  great  a  charge  as  httle  honor 

He  meant  to  hiy  upon  ;  and  his  own  letter. 

The  honorable  board  of  council  out, 

Must  fetch  him  in  he  papers. 

.lbi'?\  I  do  know 

Kinsmen  of  mine,  three  at  the  least,  that  have 
By  this  so  sickencl  their  estates,  that  ne\er 
They  shall  abound  as  former!) . 

Buck.  O,  many 

Have  broke  their  backs  with  laying  manors  on  'em 
For  this  great  journey.     What  did  this  vanity 
But  minister  communication  of 
A  most  poor  issue  } 

Xor.  Grievingly  I  think, 

The  peace  between  the  French  and  us  not  values 
The  cost  that  did  conclude  it. 

Buck.  E\ery  man, 

After  the  hideous  storm  that  follow'd,  was 
A  thing  inspir'd  ;  and,  not  consulting,  broke 
Into  a  general  prophecy, —  That  this  tempest. 
Dashing  the  garment  of  this  peace,  aboded 
The  suclden  breach  on't. 

Xor.  Which  is  budded  out  ; 

For  France  hath  flaw'd  the  league,  and  hath  attach 'd 
Our  merchants'  goods  at  Bourdeaux. 

Abcr.  Is  it  therefore 

Th'  ambassador  is  silenc'd  } 

Nor.  Marry,  is't. 

Aber.  A  proper  title  of  a  peace  ;  and  purchas'd 
At  a  superfluous  rate  ! 

Buck.  Why,  all  this  business 

Our  reverend  cardinal  carried. 

Xor.  Like't  your  grace, 

The  state  takes  notice  of  the  private  difference 
Betwixt  you  and  the  cardinal.      I  advise  you. — 
And  take  it  from  a  heart  that  wishes  towards  you 
Honor  and  plenteous  safety, —  that  you  read 
The  cardinal's  malice  and  his  potency 
T(\gether;  to  consider  further,  that 
What  his  high  hatred  would  effect  wants  not 

i-:.H.vni.7.]  VII.  259. 


Act/.]  KIXG  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  iScene  t, 

A  minister  in  his  power.     You  know  his  nature. 

That  he's  revengeful;  and  I  know  his  sword 

Hath  a  sharp  edge  :  it's  long-,  and,  't  may  be  said. 

It  reaches  far;  and  where  'twill  not  extend, 

Thither  he  darts  it.     Bosom  up  my  counsel, 

You'll  find  it  wholesome. —  Lo,  where  comes  that  rock 

That  I  advise  your  shunning. 

Enter  Cardinal  WOLSEV,  the  purse  borne  before  him  ;  cer* 

tain  of  the  Guartl,  and  two  Secretaries  luith  papers. 

The  Cardinal  i?t  his  passage  fixes  his  eye  on 

Buckingham,  ancf  Buckingham  on 

him,   both  full  of  disdain. 

Wol.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham's  surveyor,  ha? 
Where's  his  examination  } 

First  Seer.  Here,  so  please  you. 

Wol.  Is  he  in  person  ready  ? 

First  Seer.  Ay,  please  your  grace. 

Wol.  Well,  we  shall  then  know  more  ;  and  Buckingham 
Shall  lessen  this  big  look.      [Exeunt  JJ\}lsev  and  Train, 

Buck.   This  butcher's  cur  is  venom-mouth'd,  and  I 
Have  not  the  power  to  muzzle  him  ;  therefore  best 
Not  wake  him  in  his  slumber.     A  beggar's  book 
Outworths  a  noble's  blood. 

Xor.  What,  are  you  chaf'd  } 

Ask  God  for  temperance  ;  that's  th'  appliance  only 
Which  your  disease  requires. 

Buck.  I  read  in's  looks 

Matter  against  me  ;  and  his  eye  revil'd 
Me,  as  his  abject  object:  at  this  instant 
He  bores  me  with  some  trick  :  he's  gone  to  the  king ; 
I'll  follow,  and  outstare  him. 

Xor.  Stay,  my  lord. 

And  let  your  reason  with  your  choler  question 
What  'tis  you  go  about :  to  climb  steep  hills 
Requires  slow  pace  at  first :  anger  is  like 
A  full  hot-horse,  who  being  allow'd  his  way. 
Self-mettle  tires  him.     Not  a  man  in  England 
Can  advise  me  like  you  :  be  to  yourself 
As  you  would  to  your  friend. 

Buck.  I'll  to  the  king; 

And  from  a  mouth  of  honor  quite  cry  down 

VII.  36a.  (K.H.V111.  s 


i4f//.l  KING  HESRY  Till.  EIGiriH.  iS^en* .. 

This  Ipswich  fellow's  insolence;  or  proclaim 
There's  difference  in  no  persons. 

Nor.  lie  advis'd  ; 

Heat  not  a  furnace  for  your  foe  so  hot 
That  it  do  sing^e  yourself :  we  may  outrun, 
By  violent  swiftness,  that  which  we  run  at, 
And  lose  by  over-running.     Know  you  not. 
The  fire  that  mounts  the  liquor  till't  run  o'er. 
In  seeming  t'  augment  it  wastes  it?     Be  advis'd: 
I  say  again,  there  is  no  English  soul 
More  stronger  to  direct  you  than  yourself, 
If  with  the  sap  of  reason  you  would  quench, 
Or  but  allay,  the  fire  of  passion. 

Buck.  Sir, 

I'm  thankful  to  you;  and  I'll  go  along 
By  your  prescription  ;  but  this  top-proud  fellow, — 
Whom  from  the  flow  of  gall  I  name  not,  but 
From  sincere  motions, —  by  intelligence. 
And  proofs  as  clear  as  founts  in  July,  when 
We  see  each  grain  of  gravel,  I  do  know 
To  be  corrupt  and  treasonous. 

Nor.  Say  not,  treasonous. 

Buck.  To  the  king  I'll  say't ;  and  make  my  vouch  as 
strong 
As  shore  of  rock.     Attend.     This  holy  fox. 
Or  wolf,  or  both, —  for  he  is  equal  ravenous 
As  he  is  subtle,  and  as  prone  to  mischief 
As  able  to  perform 't  ;  his  mind  and  j)lace 
Infecting  one  another,  yea,  reciprocally, — 
Only  to  show  his  pomp  as  well  in  France 
As  here  at  home,  suggests  the  king  our  master 
To  this  last  costly  treaty,  th'  interview, 
That  swallow'd  so  much  treasure,  and  like  a  glass 
Did  break  i'  the  rinsing. 

Nor.  Faith,  and  so  it  did. 

Buck.  Pray,  give  me  favor,  sir.     This  cunning  cardinal 
The  articles  o'  the  combination  drew 
As  himself  pleas'd  ;  and  they  were  ratified 
As  he  cried.  "  Thus  let  be  : '"  to  as  much  end 
As  give  a  crutch  to  the  dead  :  but  our  count-cardinal 
Has  done  this,  and  'tis  well ;  for  worthy  Wolsey, 
Who  cannot  err,  he  did  it.     Now  this  follows, — 
K.H.viii.Q.,  VII.  a6i. 


./f//.]  Kl.VG  IJE.VRV  THE  EIGHTH.  {Scene 7. 

Which,  as  I  take  it,  is  a  kind  of  puppy 

To  th'  old  dam,  treason, —  Charles  the  emperor, 

Under  pretense  to  see  the  queen  his  aunt, — 

For  'twas  indeed  his  color,  but  he  came 

To  whisper  Wolsey, —  here  makes  visitation  : 

His  fears  were,  that  the  interview  betwixt 

England  and  France  might,  through  their  amity. 

Breed  him  some  prejudice ;  for  from   this  league 

Peep'd  harms  that  menac'd  him  :  he  privily 

Deals  with  our  cardinal ;  and,  as  I  trow, — 

Which  I  do  well  ;  for,  I  am  sure,  the  emperor 

Paid  ere  he  promis'd  ;  whereby  his  suit  was  granted 

Ere  it  was  ask'd  ;  —  but  when  the  way  was  made. 

And  pav'd  with  gold,  the  emperor  thus  desir'd, — 

That  he  would  please  to  alter  the  king's  course, 

And  break  the  foresaid  peace.     Let  the  king  know  — 

As  soon  he  shall  by  me  —  that  thus  the  cardinal 

Does  buy  and  sell  his  honor  as  he  pleases. 

And  for  his  own  advantage. 

yo?-.  I  am  sorry 

To  hear  this  of  him  ;  and  could  wish  he  were 
Something  mistaken  in't. 

Buck.  No,  not  a  syllable  : 

I  do  pronounce  him  in  that  ver)^  shape 
He  shall  appear  in  proof. 

Enter  BRANDON,  a  Sergeant-at-arms  before  him,  and  two 
or  three  of  the  Guard. 

Bran.  Your  office,  sergeant  ;   execute  it. 

Serg.  Sir, 

My  lord  the  duke  of  Buckingham  and  Earl 
Of  Hereford,  Stafford,  and  Northampton,  I 
Arrest  thee  of  high  treason,  in  the  name 
Of  our  most  sovereign  king. 

Buck.  Lo,  you,  my  lord, 

The  net  has  fall'n  upon  me  !  I  shall  perish 
Under  device  and  practice. 

Bran.  I  am  sorry 

To  see  you  ta'en  from  liberty,  to  look  on 
The  business  present :  'tis  his  highness'  pleasure 
You  shall  to  the  Tower. 

Buck.  It  will  help  me  nothing 

VII.  262.  [k.H.VIH.  IOi 


Aci  /."i  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  \S.tHc  il 

To  plead  mine  innocence ;  for  that  dye  is  on  me 

Which  mai<es  my  whit'st  jjart  black.     Tiie  will  c.f  heaven 

Be  done  in  this  and  all  things  ! — I  obey. — 

0  my  Lord  Aberga'ny,  fare  you  well ! 

B7'an.  Nay,  he  must  bear  you  company. —  [  To  Abcr^^a' 
ve7iiiy'\  The  king 
Is  pleas'd  you  shall  to  the  Tower,  till  you  know 
How  he  determines  further. 

Ahcr.  As  the  duke  said, 

The  will  of  heaven  be  done,  and  the  king's  pleasure 
By  me  obey'd  ! 

Bran.  Here  is  a  warrant  from 

The  king  t'  attach  Lord  Montacute  ;  and  the  bodies 
Of  the  duke's  confessor,  John  de  la  Car, 
One  Gilbert  Peck,  his  chancellor, — 

Buck.  So,  so  : 

These  are  the  limbs  o'  the  plot :  — no  more,  I  hope. 

Bj-aii.  A  monk  o'  the  Chartreux. 

Buck.  O,  Nicholas  Hopkins.^ 

Bra/i.  ■  He. 

Buck.  My  surveyor  is  false;  the  o'er-great  cardinal 
Hath  show'd  him  gold  :  my  life  is  spann'd  already  : 

1  am  the  shadow  of  ])oor  Buckingham, 
Whose  figure  even  this  instant  cloud  puts  on, 

By  darkening  my  clear  sun. —  My  lord,  farewell.  {Excunf. 

Scene  n.    The  same.     The  council-chainher. 
Cornets.     Enter  King  Henrv.    Cardinal    Wolsev,   the 
Lords  of  the  Council,  Sir  THOMAS  LovEl.L.  Officers, 
and  Attendants.      The  King  enters   leaniiii;  on 
the  Cardinal's   shoulder. 
K.  Hen.  My  life  itself,  and  the  best  heart  of  it, 
Thanks  you  for  this  great  care  :  1  stood  i'the  level 
Of  a  full-charg'd  confederacy,  and  give  thanks 
To  you  that  chok'd  it.—  Let  be  call'd  before  us 
That  gentleman  of  Buckingham's  :  in  person 
I'll  hear  him  his  confessions  justify  ; 
And  point  by  point  the  treasons  of  his  master 
He  shall  again  relate. 

r  The  Kifii!^  takes  his  state.  The  Lords  oftJ.e  Council 
take  their  several  places.  The  Cardinal  places 
himself  under  the  k'injr's  feet,  on  his  right  side, 

K.H.VIII.   JI.]  VII.    263. 


Aci /.]  KING  HE.SRY  THE  EIGHIH.  {Seem  It, 

A  noise  ^L'ithin,  crying    "  Room  for  the  Queen  ! "  Enter 

Queen  Katharine,  ushered  by  the  Dukes  of  NOR- 
FOLK and  Suffolk  :   she^ kneels.     The  King 
rises  from  his  state,  takes  her   up,  hisses 
and  places   her   by  his  side. 

O.  Kath.  Nay,  we  must  longer  kneel :  I  am  a  suitor. 

A'.  Hen.  Arise,  and  take  place  by  us :  —  half  your  suit 
Never  name  to  us  ;    you  have  half  our  power  : 
The  other  moiety,  ere  you  ask,  is  given  ; 
Repeat  your  will,  and  take  it. 

(2.  Kath.  Thank  your  majesty. 

That  you  would  love  yourself,  and  in  that  love 
Not  unconsidered  leave  your  honor,  nor 
The  dignity  of  your  office,  is  the  point 
Of  my  i)etition. 

K .  Hen.         Lady  mine,  proceed. 

(2.  Kath.  I  am  solicited,  not  by  a  few, 
And  those  of  true  condition,  that  your  subjects 
Are  in  great  grievance;  there  have  been  commissions 
Set  down  among  'em,  which  have  flaw'd  the  heart 
Of  all  their  loyalties: —  wherein,  although. 
My  good  lord  cardinal,  they  vent  reproaches 
Most  bitterly  on  you,  as  putter-on 
Of  these  exactions,  yet  the  king  our  master, — 
Whose  honor  heaven  shield  from  soil !  —  even  he  escapes 

not 
Language  unmannerly,  yea,  such  which  breaks 
The  sides  of  loyalty,  and  almost  appears 
In  loud  rebellion. 

Nor.  Not  almost  appears, — 

It  doth  appear;  for,  upon  these  taxations, 
The  clothiers  all,  not  able  to  maintain 
The  many  to  them  longing,  have  put  off 
The  spinsters,  carders,  fullers,  weavers,  who, 
Unfit  for  other  life,  compell'd  by  hunger 
And  lack  of  other  means,  in  desperate  manner 
Daring  th'  event  to  the  teeth,  are  all  in  uproar. 
And  danger  serves  among  them. 

K.  Hen.  Taxation ! 

Wherein  ?  and  what  taxation  }  —  My  lord  cardinal, 
You  that  are  blam'd  for  it  alike  with" us. 
Know  you  of  this  taxation  } 

VIL  264.  tK.H.VlII.  I» 


Aci/.]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  lScenr  II. 

iVol.  Please  you,  sir, 

I  know  but  of  a  single  part,  in  augiil 
Pertains  to  the  state ;  and  front  but  in  thai  file 
Where  others  tell  steps  with  me. 

Q.  Kath.  No,  my  lord, 

You  know  no  more  than  others  :  but  you  frame 
Things  that  are  known  alike ;  which  are  not  wholesome 
To  those  which  would  not  know  them,  and  yet  must 
Perforce  be  their  acquaintance.     These  exactions, 
Whereof  my  sovereign  would  have  note,  they  are 
Most  pestilent  to  th'  hearing;  and,  to  bear  'em. 
The  back  is  sacrifice  to  the  load.     They  say 
They  are  devis'd  by  you  ;  or  else  you  suffer 
Too  hard  an  exclamation. 

K.  Hen.  Still  exaction  ! 

The  nature  of  it.^    in  what  kind,  let's  know, 
Is  this  exaction  } 

Q.  Kath.  I  am  much  too  venturous 

In  tempting  of  your  patience ;  but  am  bolden'd 
Under  your  promis'd  pardon.     The  subjects"  grief 
Comes  through  commissions,  which  compel  from  each 
The  sixth  part  of  his  substance,  to  be  levied 
Without  delay  ;  and  the  pretense  for  this 
Is  nam'd,  your  wars  in  France  :  this  makes  bold  mouths; 
Tongues  spit  their  duties  out,  and  cold  hearts  freeze 
Allegiance  in  them  ;  that  their  curses  now- 
Live  where  their  prayers  did  :  and  it's  come  to  pass. 
That  tractable  obedience  is  a  slave 
To  each  incensed  will.      I  would  your  highness 
AVould  give  it  quick  consideration,  for 
There  is  no  primer  business, 

K.  Hen.  By  my  life. 

This  is  against  our  pleasure. 

Wol.  And  for  me, 

I  have  no  further  gone  in  this  than  by 
A  single  voice ;  and  that  not  pass'd  me  but 
By  learned  approbation  of  the  judges.     If  I  am 
Traduc'd  by  ignorant  tongues,  which  neither  know 
My  faculties  nor  person,  yet  will  be 
The  chronicles  of  my  doing,—  let  me  say 
'Tis  but  the  fate  of  place,  and  the  rough  brake  _ 
That  virtue  must  go  through.     We  must  not  stint 

K.H.V1II.  13.)  VII.  t6i. 


Act  I.]  KIXG  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH,  \Scene  It. 

Our  necessary  actions,  in  the  fear 
To  cope  malicious  censurers  ;  which  ever. 
As  ravenous  fishes,  do  a  vessel  follow 
That  is  new-trinmi'd,  but  benefit  no  further 
Than  vainly  lont^ing.     What  we  oft  do  best, 
By  sick  interpreters,  once  weak  ones,  is 
Not  ours,  or  not  allow'd  ;  what  worst,  as  oft, 
Hitting  a  grosser  quality,  is  cried  up 
For  our  best  action.     If  we  shall  stand  still, 
In  fear  our  motion  will  be  mock'd  or  carp'd  at. 
We  should  take  root  here  where  we  sit,  or  sit 
State-statues  only. 

K.  Hoi.  Things  done  well, 

And  with  a  care,  exempt  themselves  from  fear; 
Things  done  without  example,  in  their  issue 
Are  to  be  fear'd.     Have  you  a  precedent 
( )f  this  commission  }     I  believe,  not  any. 
We  must  not  rend  our  subjects  from  our  laws, 
And  stick  them  in  our  will.     Sixth  part  of  each  ! 
A  trembling  contribution  I     Why,  we  take 
From  every  tree  lop,  bark,  and  part  o'  the  timber; 
And,  though  we  leave  it  with  a  root,  thus  hack'd. 
The  air  will  drink  the  sap.     To  every  county 
Where  this  is  question'd  send  our  letters,  with 
Free  pardon  to  each  man  that  has  denied 
The  force  of  this  commission  :  pray,  look  to't  ; 
I  put  it  to  your  care. 

Wol.  {aside  to  the  Secretary]  A  word  with  you. 
Let  there  be  letters  writ  to  every  shire, 
Of  the  king's  grace  and  pardon.     The  griev'd  commons 
Hardly  conceive  of  me;  let  it  be  nois'd 
That  through  our  intercession  this  revokement 
And  pardon  comes  ;  I  shall  anon  advise  you 
Further  in  the  proceeding.  [Exit  Secretary, 

Enter  Surveyor. 

Q.  Kaih.   I'm  sorry  that  the  Duke  of  Buckingham 
Is  run  in  your  displeasure. 

A'.  Hen.  It  grieves  many  : 

The  gentleman  is  learn'd,  and  a  most  rare  speaker; 
To  nature  none  more  bound  ;  his  training  such. 
That  he  may  furnish  and  instruct  great  teachers, 

VII.  266.  [k.h.viii.  14, 


Actl^  KING  HENRY  HIE  EIGHTH^  ySctnt  ir. 

And  never  seek  for  aid  out  of  himself. 

Yet  see. 

When  these  so  noble  benefits  shall  prove 

Not  well  dispos'd,  the  nnnd  growing  once  corrupt, 

They  turn  to  vicious  forms,  ten  times  more  ugly 

Than  ever  they  were  fair.     This  man  so  complete. 

Who  was  enroll'd  'mongst  wonders,  and  when  we. 

Almost  with  ravish'd  listening,  could  not  find 

His  hour  of  speech  a  minute;  he,  my  lady. 

Hath  into  monstrous  habits  put  the  graces 

That  once  were  his,  and  is  become  as  black 

As  if  besmear'd  in  hell.     Sit  by  us;  you  shall  hear  — 

This  was  his  gentleman  in  trust  —  of  him 

Things  to  strike  honor  sad. —  Bid  him  recount 

The  fore-recited  practices  ;  whereof 

We  cannot  feel  too  little,  hear  too  much. 

IVol.  Stand   forth,    and  with  bold  spirit  relate   what 
you. 
Most  like  a  careful  subject,  have  collected 
Out  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham. 

K.  Hen.  Speak  freely. 

Siirv.    First,  it  was  usual  with  him,  every  (l;i\ 
It  would  infect  his  speech, —  that  if  the  kii\L; 
Should  without  issue  die,  he'll  carry 't  so 
To  make  the  scepter  his  :  these  very  words 
I've  heard  him  utter  to  his  son-in-law. 
Lord  Aberga'ny  ;  to  whom  by  oath  he  menac'd 
Revenge  upon  the  cardinal. 

Wol.  Please  your  highness,  note 

His  dangerous  conception  in  this  point. 
Not  friended  by  his  wish,  to  your  high  person 
His  will  is  most  malignant :  and  it  stretches 
Beyond  you,  to  your  friends. 

Q.  Kath.  My  learn 'd  lord  cardinal, 

Deliver  all  with  charity. 

K.  Hen.  Speak  on  : 

How  grounded  he  his  title  to  the  crown. 
Upon  our  fail  }  to  this  point  hast  thou  heard  him 
At  any  time  speak  aught } 

Surv.  He  was  brought  to  this 

By  a  vain  prophecy  of  Nicholas  Hopkins. 

K.  Hen.  What  was  that  Hopkins  } 

K.H.VIII.  15.]  VII.  267. 


Actl.^  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  {S.eneir 

Surz'.  Sir,  a  Chartreux  friar, 

His  confessor  ;  who  fed  him  every  minute 
With  words  of  sovereignty. 

K.  Htii.  How  know'st  thou  this? 

Surv,  Not  long  before  your  highness  sped  to  France, 
The  duke  being  at  the  Rose,  within  the  parish 
Saint  Lawrence  Poultney,  did  of  me  demand 
What  was  the  speech  among  the  Londoners 
Concerning  the  French  journey  :  I  repHed, 
Men  fear'd  the  French  would  prove  perfidious. 
To  the  king's  danger.     Presently  the  duke 
Said  'twas  the  fear,  indeed ;  and  that  he  doubted 
'Twould  prove  the  verity  of  certain  words 
Spoke  by  a  holy  monk  ;  "  that  oft,"  says  he, 
"  Hath  sent  to  me,  wishing  me  to  permit 
John  de  la  Car,  my  chaplain,  a  choice  hour 
To  hear  from  him  a  matter  of  some  moment: 
Whom  after,  under  the  confession's  seal. 
He  solemnly  had  sworn,  that  what  he  spoke 
My  chaplain  to  no  creature  living  but 
To  me  should  utter,  with  demure  confidence 
This  pausingly  ensu'd, — '  Neither  the  king  nor  *s  heirs. 
Tell  you  the  duke,  shall  prosper:  bid  him  strive 
To  gain  the  love  o'  the  commonalty :  the  duke 
Shall  govern  England.'  " 

Q.  Kath.  If  I  know  you  well. 

You  were  the  duke's  surveyor,  and  lost  your  office 
On  the  complaint  o'  the  tenants:  take  good  heed 
You  charge  not  in  your  spleen  a  noble  person. 
And  spoil  your  nobler  soul :  I  say,  take  heed; 
Yes,  heartily  beseech  you. 

K,  Hen.  Let  him  on.^ 

Go  forward. 

Surv,        On  my  soul  I'll  speak  but  truth. 
I  told  my  lord  the  duke,  by  the  devil's  illusions 
The  monk  might  be  deceiv'd ;  and  that   'twas  dangerous 

for  him 
To  ruminate  on  this  so  far,  until 
It  forg'd  him  some  design,  which  being  believ'd. 
It  was  much  like  to  do  :  he  answer'd  "  Tush, 
It  can  do  me  no  damage  ;  "  adding  further. 
That,  had  the  king  in  his  last  sickness  fail'd, 

VII.  263.  (k.h.viii.  t6. 


Aci /.]  KI.\G  HEM<Y  THE  ElijUTil.  \S.tnt Ml, 

The  cardinal's  and  Sir  Thomas  LovcH'b  heads 
Should  have  gone  off. 

K.  Hen.  Ha  !  what,  so  rank  ?  Ah-ha  .' 

There's  mischief  in  this  man  :  —  canst  thou  say  further? 

Stirv.  I  can,  my  liege, 

K .  Hen.  Proceed. 

Surv.  Being  at  Greenwich, 

After  your  highness  had  reprov'd  the  duke 
About  Sir  William  Blomer, — 

K.  Hen.  I  remember 

Of  such  a  time  :  —  being  my  sworn  servant. 
The  duke  retain'd  him  his. —  But  on  ;  what  hence  ? 

Surv.  "  If,"  quoth  he,  "  I  for  this  had  been  committed. 
As,  to  the  Tower,  I  thought, —  I  would  have  play'd 
The  part  my  father  meant  to  act  upon 
Th'  usurper  Richard  ;  who,  being  at  Salisbury, 
Made  suit  to  come  in's  presence;  which  if  granted. 
As  he  made  semblance  of  his  duty,  would 
Have  put  his  knife  into  him." 

K.  Hen.  A  giant  traitor  ! 

Wol.  Now,  madam,  may  his  highness  live  in  freedom, 
And  this  man  out  of  prison  } 

Q.  Kath.  God  mend  all ! 

K.  He?i.  There's  something  more  would   out  of  thee ; 
what  say'st .'' 

Sti?-v.  After  "the  duke  his  father,"  with  "the  knife," 
He  stretch'd  him,  and,  with  one  hand  on  his  dagger, 
Another  spread  on's  breast,  mounting  his  eyes, 
He  did  discharge  a  horrible  oath  ;  whose  tenor 
Was, —  were  he  evil  us'd,  he  would  outgo 
His  father  by  as  much  as  a  performance 
Does  an  irresolute  purpose. 

K.  Hen.  There's  his  period. 

To  sheath  his  knife  in  us.     He  is  attach'd  ; 
Call  him  to  present  trial :  if  he  may 
Find  mercy  in  the  law,  'tis  his;  if  none, 
Let  him  not  seek't  of  us  :  by  day  and  night. 
He's  traitor  to  the  height.  [Exeunt, 


CH.VIII.  17.)  ^11-  •*> 


Aci/.]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  {Scent III, 

Scene  III.   The  same.  A  room  in  the  palace. 
Enter  the  Lord  Chamberlain  and  Lord  Sands. 

Cham.  Is't  possible  the  spells  of  France  should  juggle 
Men  into  such  strange  mysteries  ? 

Sands.  New  customs. 

Though  they  be  never  so  ridiculous. 
Nay,  let  'em  be  unmanly,  yet  are  follow'd. 

Cham.  As  far  as  I  see,  all  the  good  our  English 
Have  got  by  the  late  voyage  is  but  merely 
A  fit  or  two  o'  the  face ;  but  they  are  shrewd  ones  ; 
For  when  they  hold  'em,  you  would  swear  directly 
Their  very  noses  had  been  counselors 
To  Pepin  or  Clotharius,  they  keep  state  so. 

Sands.  They've  all  new  legs,  and  lame  ones  :  one  would 
take  it, 
That  never  saw  'em  pace  before,  the  spavin 
Or  springhalt  reign'd  among  'em. 

Cham.  Death  !  my  lord. 

Their  clothes  are  after  such  a  pagan  cut  too, 
That,  sure,,  they've  worn  out  Christendom. 

E?tfe?-  Sir  Thomas  Lovell. 

How  now  ? 
What  news.  Sir  Thomas  Lovell  } 

Lov.  Faith,  my  lord, 

I  hear  of  none,  but  the  new  proclamation 
That's  clapp'd  upon  the  court-gate. 

Cham,  What  is't  for? 

Lov.  The  reformation  of  our  travel'd  gallants. 
That  fill  the  court  with  quarrels,  talk,  and  tailors. 

Cham.  I'm    glad    'tis   there:  now    I    would   pray   oui 
monsieurs 
To  think  an  English  courtier  may  be  wise, 
And  never  see  the  Louvre. 

Lov.  They  must  either  — 

For  so  run  the  conditions  —  leave  those  remnants 
(3f  fool  and  feather,  that  they  got  in  France, 
With  all  their  honorable  points  of  ignorance 
Pertaining  thereunto, —  as  fights  and  fireworks  ; 
Abusing  better  men  than  they  can  be, 
Out  of  a  foreign  wisdom, —  renouncing  clean 

VII.  270.  [k.h.viii.  i3, 


Act  I  KING  HENRY  rilE  F/CI/TIf.  ys,rftf  ///. 

The  faith  they  have  in  tennis,  and  tall  stockings, 

Short  blister'd  breeches,  and  those  types  of  travel, 

And  understand  a<^ain  like  honest  men; 

Or  pack  to  their  old  playfellows :  there,  I  take  it. 

They  may,  cum  privilc^^io,  wear  awav 

The  lag-end  of  their  lewdness,  and  !)e  laugh *d  at. 

Sands.  'Tis  time  to  give  'em  physic,  their  diseases 
Are  grown  so  catching. 

Cham.  What  a  loss  our  ladies 

Will  have  of  these  trim  vanities  ! 

Lcn>.  Ay,  marry. 

There  will  be  woe  indeed,  lords  :  the  sly  whoresons 
Have  got  a  speeding  trick  to  lay  down  ladies  ; 
A  French  song  and  a  fiddle  has  no  fellow. 

Sands.  The  devil  tiddle  'em  !     I'm  glad  they're  going; 
For,  sure,  there's  no  converting  of  'em  :  now 
An  honest  countr\'  lord,  as  1  am,  beaten 
A  long  time  out  of  play,  may  bring  his  plain-song, 
And  have  an  hour  of  hearing  ;  and,  by'r  lady, 
Held  current  music  too. 

Cham.  Well  said,  Lord  Sands  ; 

Your  colt's  tooth  is  not  cast  yet. 

Sands.  No,  my  lord  ; 

Nor  shall  not,  while  I  have  a  stump. 

Cham.  Sir  Thomas, 

Whither  were  you  a-going  .'' 

Lav.  To  the  cardinal's  : 

Your  lordship  is  a  guest  too. 

Cham.  O,  'tis  true  : 

This  night  he  makes  a  supper,  and  a  great  one. 
To  many  lords  and  ladies ;  there  will  be 
The  beauty  of  this  kingdom,  Fli  assure  you. 

1.07'.  That  churchman  bears  a  bounteous  mind  indt  cd. 
A  hand  as  fruitful  as  the  land  that  feeds  us  ; 
His  dews  fall  every  where. 

Cham.  No  doubt  he's  nobU- ; 

He  had  a  black  mouth  that  said  other  of  him. 

Sands.  He  may,  my  lord, —  'has  wherewithal  ;  in  hira 
Sparing  would  show  a  worse  sin  than  ill  doctrine: 
Men  of  his  way  should  be  most  liberal  ; 
They're  set  here  for  examples. 

Cham.  True,  they  are  so; 

K.H.VIII.  19.]  VII.   271. 


A^l.]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  [Scene  IK 

But  few  now  give  so  great  ones.     My  barge  stays  ; 
Your  lordship  shall  along. —  Come,  good  Sir  Thomas, 
We  shall  be  late  else  ;  which  1  would  not  be, 
For  I  was  spoke  to,  with  Sir  Henry  Guildford, 
This  night  to  be  comptrollers. 

Sajids.  I'm  your  lordship's.  {^Exeunt, 

Scene    V.    The  same.      The presejice-chamber  in  York-' 
Place. 

Hautboys.     A  small  table  under  a  state  for  the  Cardinal, 

a  lo7iger  table  for  the  guests.     Enter,  on  one  side, 

Anne  Bullen  a7id  divers  Lords,  Ladies,  and 

Gentlewomen,  as  guests  ;  on  the  other,  enter 

Sir  Henry  Guildford. 

Guild.  Ladies,  a  general  welcome  from  his  grace 
Salutes  ye  all;  this  night  he  dedicates 
To  fair  content  and  you  :  none  here,  he  hopes. 
In  all  this  noble  bevy,  has  brought  with  her 
One  care  abroad  ;  he  would  have  all  as  merry 
As  far's  good  companv,  good  wine,  good  welcome, 
Can  make  good  people.  —  O,  my  lord,  youVe  tardy  : 

Enter  Lord  Chamberlain,  Lord  Sands,  and  Sir  Thomas 
Lovell. 

The  very  thought  of  this  fa/r  company 
Clapp'd  wings  to  me. 

Cham.  You're  young,  Sir  Harry  Guildford. 

Sands.  Sir  Thomas  Lovell,  had  the  cardinal 
But  half  my  lay  thoughts  in  ■aim,  some  of  these 
Should  find  a  running  banquet  ere  they  rested, 
I  think  would  better  please  'em  :  by  my  life. 
They  are  a  sweet  society  of  fair  ones. 

Lov.  O  that  your  lordship  were  but  now  confessor 
To  one  or  two  of  these  ! 

Sands.  I  would  I  were  ; 

They  should  find  easy  penance. 

Lov.  Faith,  how  easy? 

Sands.   As  easy  as  a  down-bed  would  afford  it. 

Cham.   Sweet  ladies,  will  it  please  you  sit .''  —  Sir  Harry, 
Place  you  that  side  ;  I'll  take  the  charge  of  this  : 
His  grace  is  entering. —  Nay,  you  must  not  freeze  ; 

VII.  27a.  (.K.H.VIII.  ao 


AcU.]  KING  IIEXRV  THE  EICH III.  [Scene  IV. 

Two  women  plac'd  together  makes  cold  weather:  — 
My  Lord  Sands,  you  are  one  will  keep  'em  waking; 
Pray,  sit  between  these  ladies. 

Sands.  By  my  faith, 

And  thank  your  lordship. —  Ry  your  leave,  sweet  ladies  : 
[Sea/s  himself  bciivcoi  A)ine  Bullcu  and  another  Lady, 
If  I  chance  to  talk  a  little  wild,  forgive  me  ; 
1  had  it  from  my  father. 

Anne.  Was  he  mad,  sir  ? 

Sands.  O,  very  mad,  exceeding  mad,  in  love  too  : 
But  he  would  bite  none;  just  as  I  do  now, — 
He  would  kiss  you  twenty  with  a  breath.        \Kisses  her, 

Cham.  Well  said,  my  lord. — 

So,  now  you're  fairly  seated. —  Gentlemen, 
The  penance  lies  on  you,  if  these  fair  ladies 
Pass  away  frowning. 

Sands.  For  my  little  cure, 

Let  me  alone. 

Hautboys.    Enter  Cardinal  WOLSEY,  attended,  and  takes 
his  state. 

IVol.  Ye're  welcome,  my  fair  guests:  that  noble  lady. 
Or  gentleman,  that  is  not  freely  merry. 
Is  not  my  friend  :  this,  to  confirm  my  welcome  ; 
And  to  you  all,  good  health.  [Drinks, 

Sands.  Your  grace  is  noble  :  — 

Let  me  have  such  a  bowl  may  hold  my  thanks. 
And  save  me  so  much  talking. 

HW.  My  Lord  Sands, 

I  am  beholding  to  you  :  cheer  your  neighbors. — 
Ladies,  you  are  not  merry  : — gentlemen. 
Whose  fault  is  this  ? 

Sands.  The  red  wine  first  must  rise 

In  their  fair  cheeks,  my  lord  ;  then  we  shall  have  "cm 
Talk  us  to  silence. 

Anne.  You're  a  merry  gamester, 

My  Lord  Sands. 

Sands,  Yes,  if  I  make  my  play. 

Here's  to  your  ladyship  :  and  pledge  it.  madam. 
For  'tis  to  such  a  thing, — 

Anne.  You  cannot  show  mc 

K.H.VIII.  ai.]  VII.  273- 


Act  /.)  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  IScene  IV. 

Sands.  I  told  your  grace  they  would  talk  anon. 
\Drii7n  and  trumpets,  and  chambers  discharged,  within. 

Wol.  What's  that  ? 

Cham.  Look  out  there,  some  of  ye.     {^E.xit  a  Servant. 

Wol.  What  warlike  \'oice, 

And  to  what  end,  is  this  ?  —  Nay,  ladies,  fear  not ; 
By  all  the  laws  of  war  ye're  privileg'd. 

Re-enter  Servant. 

Cham.  How  now  !  what  is't  ? 

Serv.  A  noble  troop  of  strangers, — 

For  so  they  seem  :  they've  left  their  barge,  and  landed  ; 
And  hither  make,  as  great  ambassadors 
From  foreign  princes. 

Wol.  Good  lord  chamberlain. 

Go,  give  'em  welcome  ;  you  can  speak  the  French  tongue  ; 
And,  pray,  receive  'em  nobly,  and  conduct  'em 
Into  our  presence,  where  this  heaven  of  beauty 
Shall  shine  at  full  upon  them. —  Some  attend  him. 

\^Exit  Chamberlain,  attended.      All  rise,  and  the 
tables  are  removed. 
You've  now  a  broken  banquet  ;  but  we'll  mend  it. 
A  good  digestion  to  you  all :  and  once  more 
I  shower  a  welcome  on  ye  ;  —  welcome  all. 

Hautboys.     Enter  the  King  and  others,  as  inasquers, 
habited  like  shepherds,  ushered  by  the  Lord  Cham- 
berlain.    They  pass  directly  before  the  Car- 
dinal, and  gracefully  salute  him. 

A  noble  company!  what  are  their  pleasures  } 

Cham.  Because  they  speak  no  English,  thus  they  pray'd 
me 
To  tell  your  grace, —  that,  having  heard  by  fame 
Of  this  so  noble  and  so  fair  assembly 
This  night  to  meet  here,  they  could  do  no  less, 
Out  of  the  great  respect  they  bear  to  beauty. 
But  leave  their  flocks  ;  and,  under  your  fair  conduct. 
Crave  leave  to  view  these  ladies,  and  entreat 
An  hour  of  revels  with  'em. 

Wol.  Say,  lord  chamberlain, 

They've  done  my  poor  house  grace ;  for  which  I  pay  'em 
A  thousand  thanks,  and  pray  'em  take  their  pleasures. 

VII.    274.  [K.H.VIII.  22. 


Act  /.]  KIXG  HEXR  J  ■  'J//E  EIUJ/  TH.  [v  (n<  IV. 

^Ladies  cJiosen  for  tJie  dance.      The  K'/fii;  c/iooses 
Afuie  Bitllcn. 

K.  Hen.  The  fairest  hand  I  ever  touch 'd  !  O  beauty, 
Till  now  I  never  knew  thee  !  {Music.     Dance. 

Wol.  My  lord  — 

Ch  a  VI.  Y  o  u  r  grac  e  ? 

Wol.  Pray,  tell  'em  thus  much  from  me :  — 

There  should  be  one  amongst  'em,  by  his  person, 
More  worthy  this  place  than  myself ;  to  whom, 
If  I  but  knew  him,  with  my  love  and  duty 
I  would  surrender  it. 

Cham.  I  will,  my  lord. 

\^Goes  to  the  Masquers,  and  reiurns. 

Wol.  What  say  they? 

Cham.  Such  a  one,  they  all  confess. 

There  is  indeed  ;  which  they  would  have  your  grace 
Find  out,  and  he  will  take  it. 

Wol.  Let  me  see,  then. 

[  Comes  from  his  state. 
By  all  your  good  leaves,  gentlemen  ; —  here  I'll  make 
My  royal  choice. 

K.  Hen.  Ye've  found  him,  cardinal:  [  Unmasking, 

You  hold  a  fair  assembly  ;  you  do  well,  lord  : 
You  are  a  churchman,  or,  I'll  tell  you,  cardinal, 
I  should  judge  now  unhappily. 

Wol.  I'm  glad 

Your  grace  is  grown  so  pleasant. 

K.  Hen.  My  lord  chamberlain. 

Prithee,  come  hither :  what  fair  lady's  that  ? 

Cham.  An't   please  your  grace,   Sir  Thomas  Bullen's 
daughter. — 
The  Viscount  Rochford, —  one  of  her  highness'  women. 

K.  Hen.   By  heaven,  she  is  a  dainty  one.—  Sweetheart, 
I  were  unmannerly,  to  take  you  out. 

And  not  to  kiss  you  {Kisses  her\— h  health,  gentlemen  I 
Let  it  go  round. 

Wol.  Sir  Thomas  Lovell,  is  the  banquet  ready 
r  the  privy  chamber.^ 

Loi.'.  Yes,  my  lord. 

Wol.  Your  grace. 

I  fear,  with  dancing  is  a  little  heated. 

K.  Hen.  I  fear,  too  much. 

K.H.VIII.  23.]  V3I.  ivs- 


ActlL]  KIXG  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  {Scene  I. 

IVol.  There's  fresher  air,  my  lord. 

In  the  next  chamber. 

K.  Hen.  Lead  in  your  ladies,  ever}-  one  :  —  sweet  partner, 
I  must  not  yet  forsake  you  :  —  let's  be  merr}' :  — 
Good  my  lord  cardinal,  I've  half  a  dozen  healths 
To  drink  to  these  fair  ladies,  and  a  measure 
To  lead  'em  once  again  ;  and  then  let's  dream 
Who's  best  in  favor. —  Let  the  music  knock  it, 

\_Exeuiit  with  trumpets. 

ACT  II. 

Scene  I.    LondoJt.     A  street. 

Enter  two  Gentlemen,  ineeting. 

First  Gent.  Whither  away  so  fast  ? 

Sec.  Gent.  O, —  God  save  ye  5 

E'en  to  the  hall,  to  hear  what  shall  become 
Of  the  great  Duke  of  Buckingham. 

First  Gent.  I'll  save  you 

That  labor,  sir.     All's  now  done,  but  the  ceremony 
Of  bringing  back  the  prisoner. 

Sec.  Gent .  Were  you  there  } 

First  Gent,  Yes,  indeed,  was  I. 

Sec.  Gent.  Pray,  speak  what  has  happen'd. 

First  Gent.   You  may  guess  quickly  what. 

Sec.  Gent.  Is  he  found  guilty  ? 

First  Gent.  Yes,  truly  is  he,  and  condemn'd  upon't. 

Sec.  Gent.  I'm  sorr}-  for't. 

First  Gent.  So  are  a  number  more. 

Sec.  Gent.  But,  pray,  how  pass'd  it } 

First  Gent.  I'll  tell  you  in  a  little.     The  great  duke 
Came  to  the  bar  ;  where  to  his  accusations 
He  pleaded  still,  not  guilty,  and  alleg'd 
Many  sharp  reasons  to  defeat  the  law. 
The  king's  attorney,  on  the  contrar}', 
Urg'd  on  th'  examinations,  proofs,  confessions 
Of  divers  witnesses ;  which  the  duke  desir'd 
To  have  brought,  viz'd  voce,  to  his  face : 
At  which  appear'd  against  him  his  surveyor; 
Sir  Gilbert  Peck  his  chancellor  ;  and  John  Car, 

VII.  276.  [K.H.V111.  941 


Act//.]  KING  HENRY  THE  riCHTir.  [Scmr /. 

Confessor  to  him  ;  with  that  devil-moiik, 
Hopkins,  that  made  this  mischief. 

Sec.  Gent.  That  was  he 

That  fed  him  with  liis  prophecies  ? 

First  Gent.  The  same. 

All  these  accus'd  him  strongly;  which  he  fain 
Would  have  Hung  from  him,   but,  indeed,   he  could  not  : 
And  so  his  peers,  upon  this  evidence. 
Have  found  him  guilty  of  high  treason.     Much 
He  spoke,  and  learnedly,  for  life  ;  but  all 
Was  either  pitied  in  him  or  forgotten. 

Sec.  Gent.  After  all  this,  how  did  he  bear  himself? 

First  Gent.  When  he  was  brought  again  to  the  bar,  to 
hear 
His  knell  rung  out,  his  judgment, —  he  was  stirr'd 
With  such  an  agony,  he  swet  extremely, 
And  something  spoke  in  choler,  ill,  and  hasty  : 
But  he  fell  to  himself  again,  and  sweetly 
In  all  the  rest  show'd  a  most  noble  patience. 

Sec.  Gent.  I  do  not  think  he  fears  death. 

First  Gent.  Sure,  he  does  not, — 

He  never  was  so  womanish  ;  the  cause 
He  may  a  little  grieve  at. 

Sec.  Gent.  Certainly 

The  cardinal  is  the  end  of  this. 

First  Gent.  'Tis  likely. 

By  all  conjectures  :  first,  Kildare's  attainder, 
Then  deputy  of  Ireland ;  who  remov'd. 
Earl  Surrey  was  sent  thither,  and  in  haste  too, 
Lest  he  should  help  his  father. 

Sec.  Gent.  That  trick  of  state 

Was  a  deep-envious  one. 

First  Gent.  At  his  return 

No  doubt  he  will  requite  it.     This  is  noted. 
And  generally, —  whoever  the  king  favors, 
The  cardinal  instantly  will  find  employment, 
And  far  enough  from  court  too. 

Sec.  Gent.  All  the  commons 

Hate  him  perniciously,  and,  o'  my  conscience. 
Wish  him  ten  fathom'  deep  :  this  duke  as  much 
They  love  and  dote  on  ;  call  him  bounteous  Buckinghan\ 
The  mirror  of  all  courtesy, — 

K.H.VIII.  85.J  VII.  277. 


A:t  //.]  KING  HENRV  THE  EIGHTH.  [Stent  I. 

First  Gent.  Stay  there,  sir. 

And  see  the  noble-rLiin'd  man  you  speak  of. 

£";//^r  Buckingham />-(?;;;  his  arraigtunent ;  tipstaves 
before  him  ;    the  ax  with  the  edge  towards  him  ; 
halberds  on  each  side  :    with  him   Sir  THOMAS 
LovELL,  Sir  Nicholas  Vaux,  Sir  Wil- 
liam Sands,  and  common  people. 

Sec.  Gent.  Let's  stand  close,  and  behold  him. 

Buck.  All  good  people, 

You  that  thus  far  have  come  to  pity  me, 
Hear  what  I  say,  and  then  go  home  and  lose  me. 
I  have  this  day  receiv'd  a  traitor's  judgment. 
And  by  that  name  must  die  :  yet,  heaven  bear  witness. 
And  if  I  have  a  conscience,  let  it  sink  me. 
Even  as  the  ax  falls,  if  I  be  not  faithful  ! 
The  law  I  bear  no  malice  for  my  death  ; 
'T  has  done,  upon  the  premises,  but  justice: 
But  those  that  sought  it  I  could  wish  more  Christians  r 
Be  what  they  will,  I  heartily  forgive  'em  : 
Yet  let  'em  look  they  glory  not  in  mischief, 
Nor  build  their  evils  on  the  graves  of  great  men  ; 
For  then  my  guiltless  blood  must  cry  against  'em. 
For  further  life  in  this  world  I  ne'er  hope. 
Nor  will  I  sue,  although  the  king  have  mercies 
More  than  I  dare  make  faults.     You  few  that  lov'd  me. 
And  dare  be  bold  to  weep  for  Buckingham, 
His  noble  friends  and  fellows,  whom  to  leave 
Is  only  bitter  to  him,  only  dying, 
Go  with  me,  like  good  angels,  to  my  end  ; 
And,  as  the  long  divorce  of  steel  falls  on  me. 
Make  of  your  prayers  one  sweet  sacrifice. 
And  lift  my  soul  to  heaven. —  Lead  on,  o'  God's  name. 

Lov.   I  do  beseech  your  grace,  for  charity, 
If  ever  any  malice  in  your  heart 
Were  hid  against  me,  now  forgive  me  frankly. 

Buck.  Sir  Thomas  Lovell,  I  as  free  forgive  you 
As  I  would  be  forgiven  :  I  forgive  all ; 
There  cannot  be  those  numberless  offenses 
'Gainst  me  I  cannot  take  peace  with  :  no  black  en\'y 
Shall  mark  my  grave. —  Commend  me  to  his  grace  ; 
And,  if  he  speak  of  Buckingham,  pray  tell  him 

VII.  278.  JlCR.VIII.  26, 


*./^//.]  KING  HESRY  IHE  IlIGlITIl.  ["crm,  f. 

You  met  him  half  in  lieaven  :  my  vows  and  pra)crs 
Yet  are  tlie  king's  ;  and,  till  my  soul  forsake  mr, 
Siiall  cry  for  blessings  on  him  :  may  he  live 
Longer  than  1  have  time  to  tell  his  years  ! 
Ever  belov'd  and  loving  may  his  rule  be! 
And  when  old  time  shall  lead  him  to  his  end, 
C'.oodness  and  he  till  uj)  one  monument ! 

Lo7'.  To  the  water-side  I  must  conduct  )  our  grace  ; 
Then  give  my  charge  up  to  Sir  Nicholas  \'aux. 
Who  undertakes  you  to  your  end. 

Vau.v.  Prej)are  there, 

The  duke  is  coming  :  see  the  barge  be  ready ; 
And  fit  it  with  such  furniture  as  suits 
The  greatness  of  his  person. 

Buck.  Nay,  Sir  Nicholas, 

Let  it  alone  ;  my  state  now  will  but  mock  me. 
When  I  came  hither,  I  was  lord  high  constable 
And  duke  of  Buckingham  ;  now,  poor  Edward  Bohun  : 
Yet  I  am  richer  than  my  !)ase  accusers, 
That  never  knew  what  truth  meant  :  I  now  seal  It  ; 
And  with  that  blood  will  make   'em   one  day  groan  for'l 
My  noble  father,  Henry  of  Buckingham. 
Who  first  rais'd  head  against  usuri)ing  Richard, 
Flying  for  succor  to  his  servant  Banister, 
Being  distress'd.  was  by  that  wretch  betray'd 
And  without  trial  fell  ;  God's  peace  be  with  him  I 
Henry  the  Seventh  succeeding,  truly  pitying 
My  father's  loss,  like  a  most  royal  prince, 
Restor'd  me  to  my  honors,  and,  out  of  ruins. 
Made  my  name  once  more  noble.     Now  his  son, 
Henry  the  Eighth,  life,  honor,  name,  and  all 
That  made  me  happy,  at  one  stroke  has  taken 
For  ever  from  the  world.     I  had  my  trial. 
And,  must  needs  say,  a  noble  one;  which  makes  me 
A  little  happier  than  my  wretched  father  : 
Yet  thus  far  we  are  one  in  fcMtunes, —  both 
Fell  by  our  servants,  by  those  men  we  lov'd  most ; 
A  most  unnatural  and  faithless  ser\-icc ! 
Heaven  has  an  end  in  all  :  yet.  you  that  hear  mc. 
This  from  a  dving  man  receive  as  certain  :  — 
Where  you  are  liberal  of  your  loves  and  counsels 
Be  sure  you  be  not  loose  ;  for  those  you  make  friends 
K.H.VI1I.  a;.]  VII.  %^i^ 


Act /I.]  K1.\'G  HhXRV  THE  EIGHTH.  \Scene  1, 

And  give  your  hearts  to,  when  they  once  perceive 

The  least  rub  in  your  fortunes,  fall  away 

Like  water  from  ye,  never  found  again 

But  where  they  mean  to  sink  ye.     All  good  people. 

Pray  for  me  !  I  must  now  forsake  ye  :  the  last  hour 

Of  my  long  weary  life  is  come  upon  me. 

Farewell : 

And  when  you  would  say  something  that  is  sad, 

Speak  how  I  fell, — ■  I've  done  ;  and  God  forgive  me  ! 

{^ExciDit  Buckiiighani  and  Train, 

First  Gent.  O,  this  is  full  of  pity  !  —  Sir,  it  calls, 
I  fear,  too  many  curses  on  their  heads 
That  were  the  authors. 

Sec.  Gent.  If  the  duke  be  guiltless, 

'Tis  full  of  woe :  yet  I  can  give  you  inkling 
Of  an  ensuing  evil,  if  it  fall. 
Greater  than  this. 

First  Gent.         Good  angels  keep  it  from  us ! 
What  may  it  be  ?  You  do  not  doubt  my  faith,  sir  ? 

Sec.  Gent.  This  secret  is  so  weighty,  'twill  require 
A  strong  faith  to  conceal  it. 

First  Gejit.  Let  me  ha\'e  it  ; 

I  do  not  talk  much. 

Sec.  Gent.  I  am  confident ; 

You  shall,  sir  :  did  you  not  of  late  days  hear 
A  buzzing  of  a  separation 
Between  the  king  and  Katharine  .'* 

First  Gent.  Yes,  but  it  held  not : 

For  when  the  king  once  heard  it,  out  of  anger 
He  sent  command  to  the  lord  mayor  straight 
To  stop  the  rumor,  and  allay  those  tongues 
That  durst  disperse  it. 

Sec.  Gent.  But  that  slander,  sir. 

Is  found  a  truth  now  :  for  it  grows  again 
Fresher  than  e'er  \i  was ;  and  held  for  certain 
The  king  will  venture  at  it.     Either  the  cardinal, 
Or  some  about  him  near,  have,  out  of  malice 
To  the  good  queen,  possess'd  him  with  a  scruple 
That  will  undo  her  :  to  confirm  this  too, 
Cardinal  Campeius  is  arriv'd,  and  lately; 
As  all  think,  for  this  business. 

First  Gent,  'Tis  the  cardinal ; 

VII.  >8o.  [k.h.viii.  281 


Actii:\  Kir.c  HE.\Ry  THE  Eianrii.  iSctntir. 

And  merely  to  revenge  him  on  the  emperor 
For  not  bestowing  on  him,  at  liis  asking, 
Th'  archbishopric  of  Toledo,  this  is  puri)os'd. 

Sec.  Geiit.  1  think  you've  hit   the   mark  :    but   is't   not 
cruel 
That  she  should  feel  the  smart  of  this  ?  The  cardinal 
Will  have  his  will,  and  she  must  fall. 

First  Gent.  'Tis  wuful. 

We  are  too  open  here  to  argue  this ; 
Let's  think  in  private  more.  \Exeunt. 

Scene  II.    The  Sivme.  An  ante-chamber  in  the  palace. 
Enter  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  reading  a  letter, 

Cham.  "  My  lord, —  The  horses  your  ladyship  sent  for 
with  all  the  care  I  had,  I  saw  well  chosen,  ridden,  and 
furnished.  They  were  young  and  handsome,  and  of  the 
best  breed  in  the  north.  When  they  were  ready  to  set 
out  for  London,  a  man  of  my  lord  cardinal's,  by  commis- 
sion and  main  power,  took  'em  from  me  ;  with  this  rea- 
son,—  His  master  would  be  served  before  a  subject,  if 
not  before  the  king  ;  which  stopped  our  mouths,  sir." 
I  fear  he  will  indeed  :  well,  let  him  have  them: 
He  will  have  all,  I  think. 

E7iter  the  Dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk. 

Nor.  Well  met,  my  lord  chamberlain. 

Cham.  Good  day  to  both  your  graces. 

Suf.  How  is  the  king  employ 'd  ? 

Cham.  I  left  him  private, 

Full  of  sad  thoughts  and  troubles. 

Nor.  What's  the  cause.' 

Cham.  It  seems  the  marriage  with  his  brother's  wife 
Has  crept  too  near  his  conscience. 

Siif.  No,  his  conscience 

Has  crept  too  near  another  lady. 

Nor.  'Tis  so : 

This  is  the  cardinal's  doing,  the  king-cardinal  : 
That  blind  priest,  like  the  eldest  son  of  fortune, 
Turns  what  he  list.     The  king  will  know  him  one  day. 

Suf.  Pray  God  he  do!  he'll  never  know  himself  else. 

Nor,  How  holily  he  works  in  all  his  business  I 

K.H.VIII.  29.)  VU.sSi. 


.-*.-/  fr.i  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  {Scene I h 

And  with  what  zeal  !  for,  now  he  has  crack'd  the  league 

'Tween  us  and  th'  emperor,  the  queen's  great-nephew. 

He  dives  into  the  king's  soul,  and  there  scatters 

Dangers,  doubts,  wringing  of  the  conscience, 

Fears,  and  despairs, —  and  all  these  for  his  marriage  ; 

And  out  of  all  these  to  restore  the  king, 

He  counsels  a  divorce  ;  a  loss  of  her 

That,  like  a  jewel,  has  hung  twenty  years 

About  his  neck,  yet  never  lost  her  luster; 

Of  her  that  loves  him  with  that  excellence 

That  angels  love  good  men  with  ;  even  of  her 

That,  when  the  greatest  stroke  of  fortune  falls. 

Will  bless  the  king:  and  is  not  this  course  pious?      [true 

Cham.  Heaven  keep  me  from  such  counsel  !     'Tis  most 
These  news  are  every  where  ;  ever}^  tongue  speaks  'em. 
And  every  true  heart  weeps  for't :  all  that  dare 
Look  into  these  affairs  see  this  main  end, — 
The  French  king's  sister.     Heaven  will  one  day  open 
The  king's  eyes,  that  so  long  have  slept  upon 
This  bold  bad  man. 

Sitf.  And  free  us  from  his  slavery. 

Nor.  We  had  need  pray. 
And  heartily,  for  our  deliverance  ; 
Or  this  imperious  man  will  work  us  all 
From  princes  into  pages  :  all  men's  honors 
Lie  like  one  lump  before  him,  to  be  fashion'd 
Into  what  pitch  he  please. 

Siif.  For  me,  my  lords, 

I  love  him  not,  nor  fear  him  ;  there's  my  creed  : 
As  I  am  made  without  him,  so  Fll  stand. 
If  the  king  please  ;  his  curses  and  his  blessings 
Touch  m£  alike,  they're  breath  I  not  believe  in. 
I  knew  him.  and  I  know  him  ;  so  I  leave  him 
To  him  that  made  him  proud,  the  Pope. 

Nor,  Let  s  in  ; 

And  with  some  other  business  put  the  king 
From  these  sad  thoughts,  that  work  too  much  upon  him  :  - 
My  lord,  you'll  bear  us  company  .^ 

Cham.  Excuse  me ; 

The  king  has  sent  me  otherwise  :  besides, 
Vou'll  find  a  most  unfit  time  to  disturb  him  : 
Health  to  your  lordships  ! 

VII.  282.  (K.H.VIU.  30, 


Act  11. \  KING  HEXRY  THE  Eh.HTH,  \S.tK,  //. 

Not\  Tlianks.  my  good  lord  chaiubcrli^  n. 

\Exit  Lord  Chamberhxin.    Xorfolk  opens  a  fold- 
ifig-door.     The  K/'fij^^   is    d/sctnured  s/t/ifii^^ 
and  ?-eading  pensh'ely. 
Suf.   How  sad  he  looks  !  sure,  he  is  much  afflicted. 
A'.  Hen.  Who's  there,  ha  ? 

Nor.  Pray  (iod  he  be  not  aiij;r\ 

A'.  Hen.  Who's  there.  I  say?'    How   dare  you    thus 
yourselves 
Into  my  private  meditations? 
Who  am  I,  ha? 

Nor.  A  gracious  king,  that  pardons  all  offenses 
Malice  ne'er  meant :  our  breach  of  duty  this  way 
Is  business  of  estate  ;  in  which  we  come 
To  know  your  royal  pleasure. 

K.  Hen.  Ye'ie  too  bold  : 

Go  to  ;  I'll  make  ye  know  your  times  of  business: 
Is  this  an  hour  for  temporal  affairs,  ha? 

Enter  WOLSEY  and  Campkius. 

Who's  there  ?  my  good  lord  cardinal  ?  —  O  my  Wolsey» 

The  quiet  of  my  wounded  conscience  ; 

Thou  art  a  cure  fit   for   a  king. —  [  To  Canipeiiis']  You're 

welcome. 
Most  learned  reverend  sir,  into  our  kingdom  : 
Use  us  and  it. —  [  To  VVolsey^   My  good  lord,  have  great 

care 
I  be  not  found  a  talker. 

Wol.  Sir,  you  cannot. 

I  would  your  grace  would  give  us  but  an  hour 
Of  private  conference. 

K.  Hen.  \to  Norfolk  and  SuJ'olk\  We  are  busy  ;  go. 

Nor.  [aside  to  Suf.^  This  priest  has  no  pride  in  him  ! 

Suf.  {aside  to  Nor.\  Not  to  speak  of  ; 

I  would  not  be  so  sick  though  for  his  place  : 
But  this  cannot  continue. 

Nor.  [aside  to  Snf.\  If  it  do, 
I'll  venture  one  have-at-him. 

Si{f.  [aside  to  Nor.\  1  another. 

[Exeunt  Norfolk  and  Suffolk 

IVoi.  Your  grace  has  given  a  precedent  of  wisdom 
Above  all  princes,  in  committing  freely 
K.H.V111.31.I  VII.  283. 


Actir.']  KING  HEXRY  THE  EIGHTH.  [Scene  Jl 

Your  scruple  to  the  voice  of  Christendom  : 

Who  can  be  angry  now?  what  envy  reach  you? 

The  Spaniard,  tied  by  blood  and  favor  to  her, 

Must  now  confess,  if  they  have  any  goodness. 

The  trial  just  and  noble.     All  the  clerks, 

i  mean  the  learned  ones,  in  Christian  kingdoms 

Have  their  free  voices  :  Rome,  the  nurse  of  judgment, 

Invited  by  your  noble  self,  hath  sent 

One  general  tongue  unto  us,  this  good  man. 

This  just  and  learned  priest,  Cardinal  Campeius,--- 

AVhom  once  more  I  present  unto  your  highness. 

K.  Hen.  And  once  more  in  mine  arms  I  bid  him  wel- 
come, 
And  thank  the  holy  conclave  for  their  loves  :    ■ 
They've  sent  me  such  a  man  1  would  have  wish'd  for. 

Ca?n.  Your  grace    must   needs    deserve  all  strangers* 
loves. 
You  are  so  noble.     To  your  highness'  hand 
I  tender  my  commission  ; — -by  whose  virtue  — 
The  court  of  Rome  commanding — you,  my  lord 
Cardinal  o(  York,  are  join'd  with  me  iheir  servant 
In  the  ur.partial  judging  of  this  business. 

K.  Hen.   Two    equal    men.     The   queen    shall    be  ac- 
quainted 
Forthwith  for  what  you  come. —  Where's  Gardiner? 

IVol.  I  know  your  majesty  has  always  lov'd  her 
So  dear  in  heart,  not  to  deny  her  that 
A  woman  of  less  place  might  ask  by  law,— 
Scholars  allow'd  freely  to  argue  for  her. 

K.  Hen.  Ay,    and    the   best   she   shall   have ;  and  my 
favor 
To  him  that  does  best :  God  forbid  else.     Cardinal, 
Prithee,  call  Gardiner  to  me,  my  new  secretary  : 
I  find  him  a  fit  fellow.  [Exit  IVolsey, 

Re-enter  WOLSEY,  wz't/i  Gardiner. 

IVol.  [aside  to  Gard.l  Give   me   your  hand  :  much  joy 
and   favor  to  you  ; 
You  are  the  king's  now. 

Gard.  [aside  to  IIW.]  But  to  be  commanded 
For  ever  by  your  grace,  whose  hand  has  rais'd  me. 

A'.  Hen.  Come  hither, Gardiner.  {Tluy converse aparU 

VII.  284..  [k.h.viii.  32, 


Act  1 1.]  KING  HE.\RY  THE  EIGHTH.  \S.enelIt 

Cam.  My  Lord  of  York,  was  not  one  Doctor  Pace 
In  this  man's  place  before  him  ? 

Wol.  Yes,  he  was. 

Cam.   Was  he  not  held  a  learned  man  ? 

Wol.  Yes,  surely. 

Cam.  Believe  me,  there's  an  ill  opinion  spread,  then. 
Even  of  yourself,  lord  cardinal. 

Wol.  How  !  of  me  ? 

Cam.  They  will  not  stick  to  say  you  envied  him  ; 
And  fearing  he  would  rise,  he  was  so  virtuous. 
Kept  him  a  foreign  man  still  ;  which  so  griev'd  him, 
That  he  ran  mad  and  died. 

Wol.  Heaven''s  peace  be  with  him  I 

That's  Christian  care  enough:  for  living  murmurers 
There's  places  of  rebuke.     He  was  a  fool ; 
For  he  would  needs  be  virtuous  :  that  good  fellow. 
If  I  command  him,  follows  my  appointment  : 
I  will  have  none  so  near  else.     Learn  this,  brother. 
We  live  not  to  be  grip'd  by  meaner  persons. 

K.  Hen.  Deliver  this  with  modesty  to  the  queen. 

\Exit  Gardiner. 
The  most  convenient  place  that  I  can  think  of 
For  such  receipt  of  learning  is  Black-Friars  ; 
There  ye  shall  meet  about  this  weighty  business  :  — 
My  Wolsey,  see  it  furnish'd.  — O,  my  lord, 
Would  it  not  grieve  an  able  man  to  leave 
So  sw^eet  a  bedfellow  }     But,  conscience,  conscience,— 
O,  'tis  a  tender  place  !  and  I  must  leave  her.       {Exeunt. 

Scene  III.    The  same.  An  ante-chamber  in  the  Owkhiw'^ 
apartments. 

Enter  Anne  Bullen  and  an  old  Ladv. 
Anne.  Not  for   that    neither:    here's    the    pang    tha: 
pinches:  — 
His  highness  having  liv'd  so  long  with  her,  and  she 
So  good  a  lady  that  no  tongue  could  ever 
Pronounce  dishonor  of  her,— by  my  life, 
She  never  knew  harm-doing  ;—0,  npw,  after 
So  many  courses  of  the  sun  enthron'd. 
Still  growing  in  majesty  and  pomi).—  the  which 
To  leave's  a  thousand-fold  more  bitter  than 

K.H.VIII   33-1  VII.  28=;. 


.-.CI//.]  KIXG  HE::RV  rilE  EIGHTH.  \,Scene  IIL 

'Tis  sweet  at  first  t'  acquire,— after  this  process. 
To  give  her  the  avaunt !  it  is  a  pity 
Would  move  a  monster. 

Old  L.  Hearts  of  most  hard  tempel 

^lelt  and  lament  for  her. 

Ajine.  O,  God's  will !  much  better 

She  ne'er  had  known  pomp  :  though't  be  temporal. 
Yet,  if  that  quarrel,  fortune,  do  divorce 
It  from  the  bearer,  'tis  a  sufferance  panging 
As  soul  and  body's  severing. 

Old  L.  Alas,  poor  lady  ! 

She's  a  stranger  now  again. 

A?tne.  So  much  the  more 

Must  pity  drop  upon  her.     Verily, 
I  swear,  'tis  better  to  be  lowly  born, 
And  range  with  humble  livers  in  content, 
Than  to  be  perk'd  up  in  a  glistering  grief. 
And  wear  a  golden  sorrow. 

Old  L.  Our  content 

Is  our  best  having. 

Anne,  By  my  troth  and  maidenhead, 

1  would  not  be  a  queen. 

Old  L.  Beshrew  me,  I  would, 

And  venture  maidenhead  for't ;  and  so  would  you, 
For  all  this  spice  of  your  hypocrisy  : 
You,  that  have  so  fair  parts  of  a  woman  on  you. 
Have  too  a  woman's  heart ;  which  ever  yet 
Affected  eminence,  wealth,  sovereignty  ; 
\Vhich,  to  say  sooth,  are  blessings ;  and  which  gifts    <i 
Saving  your  mincing  —  the  capacity 
Of  your  soft  cheveril  conscience  would  receive. 
If  you  might  please  to  stretch  it. 

Anne.  Nay,  good  troth, — 

Old  L.  Yes,   troth,  and  troth  ;  —  you  would    not   be    a 
queen  } 

Anne.  No,  not  for  all  the  riches  under  heaven. 

Old  L.  'Tis  strange  ;  a  three-pence  bow'd  would  hire 
me, 
Old  as  I  am,  to  queen  it:  but,  I  pray  you. 
What  think  you  of  a  duchess  ?  have  you  limbs 
To  bear  that  load  of  title  ? 

Anne.  No,  in  truth. 

VII.  2S6.  [k.h.viii.  34. 


Act  II. 1  KING  IIEXR  J '  THE  EIGHTH.  [ ' . , ,.,  //. 

Old  L.  Then  you  are  weakly  made  :  j)luck  off  a  lillle  , 
I  would  not  be  a  young  count  in  your  way, 
For  more  than  blushing-  comes  to  :  if  your  back 
Cannot  vouchsafe  this  burden,  'tis  too  weak 
Ever  to  get  a  boy. 

Anne,  How  you  do  talk  ! 

I  swear  again,  I  would  not  be  a  queen 
For  all  the  world. 

Old  L.  In  faith,  for  little  England 

Youd  venture  an  emballing:  1  myselt 
Would  for  Carnarvonshire,  although  there  long'd 
No  more  to  the  crown  but  that. —  Lo,  who  comes  here  ? 

E)tter  the  Lord   Chamberlain. 

Cham.  Good  morrow,  ladies.    What   were't  worth     o 
know 
The  secret  of  your  conference  } 

Anne.  My  good  lord. 

Not  your  demand  ;  it  values  not  your  asking  . 
Our  mistress'  sorrows  we  were  pitying. 

Cha/n.  It  was  a  gentle  business,  and  becoming 
The  action  of  good  women  :  there  is  hope 
All  will  be  well. 

Anne.  Now,  I  pray  God,  amen  I 

Chain.  You  bear  a  gentle  mind,  and  heavenly  blessings 
Follow  such  creatures.     That  you  may,  fair  laciy. 
Perceive  I  speak  sincerely,  and  high  note's 
Taen  of  your  many  virtues,  the  king's  majesty 
Commends  his  good  opinion  to  you,  and 
Does  purpose  honor  to  you  no  less  flowing 
Than  Marchioness  of  Pembroke  ;  to  which  title 
A  thousand  pound  a  year,  annual  support, 
Out  of  his  grace  he  adds. 

Anne.  I  do  not  know 

What  kind  of  my  obechence  I  should  tender  ; 
More  than  my  all  is  nothing  :  nor  my  prayers 
Are  not  word's  duly  hallow'd,  nor  my  wishes 
More  worth  than  empty  vanities  ;  yet  i)rayersand  wishes 
Are  all  I  can  return.     I^eseech  y<nir  lordship. 
Vouchsafe  to  speak  my  thanks  and  my  obedience, 
As  from  a  blushing  handmaid,  to  his  highness  : 
Whose  health  and  royalty  I  pray  for. 

K.H.VIII.  35.]  VII     287. 


A  ci  //.]  KING  HENR 1 '  THE  EIGH  TH,  iScene  III, 

Chajn.  Lady, 

1  shall  not  fail  t'  approve  the  fair  conceit 
The  king-  hath  of  you. —  [Aside]  I've  perus'd  her  well  ; 
Beautv  and  honor  in  her  are  so  mingled, 
That  they  have  caught  the  king:   and  who  knows  yet 
But  from  this  lady  may  proceed  a  gem 
To  lighten  all  this  isle'?  —  I'll  to  the  king. 
And  say  I  spoke  with  you. 

An?ie.  My  honor'd  lord. 

[Exit  Lord  Chamberlain^ 

Old  L.  Why,  this  it  is  ;  see,  see ! 
I  have  been  begging  sixteen  years  in  court, — 
Am  yet  a  courtier  beggarly, —  nor  could 
Come  pat  betwixt  too  early  and  too  late 
For  any  suit  of  pounds  ;  and  you,  O  fate ! 
A  very  fresh-fish  here,—  fie,  fie  upon 
This  compell'd  fortune  !  —  have  your  mouth  fill'd  up 
Before  you  open't. 

An?ie.  This  is  strange  to  me. 

Old  L.  How  tastes  it  ?   is  it  bitter  ?  forty  pence,  no. 
There  was  a  lady  once  — 'tis  an  old  story  — 
That  would  not  be  a  queen,  that  would  she  not. 
For  all  the  mud  in  Egypt  :  —  have  you  heard  it  ? 

Anne.  Come,  you  are  pleasant. 

Old  L.  With  your  theme,  I  could 

O'ermount  the  lark.     The  Marchioness  of  Pembroke  ! 
A  thousand  pounds  a  year  —  for  pure  respect ! 
No  other  obligation  !     By  my  life, 
That  promises  more  thousands  :  honor's  train 
Is  longer  than  his  foreskirt.     By  this  time 
I  know  your  back  will  bear  a  duchess  : —  say. 
Are  you  not  stronger  than  you  were  ? 

Anne.  Good  lady. 

Make  yourself  mirth  with  your  particular  fancy. 
And  leave  me  out  on't.     Would  I  had  no  being. 
If  this  salute  my  blood  a  jot  :  it  faints  me. 
To  think  what  follows. 
The  queen  is  comfortless,  and  we  forgetful 
In  our  long  absence  :  pray,  do  not  deliver 
What  here  you've  heard  to  her. 

Old  L.  What  do  you  think  me  i 

[Exeunt, 
VII.  288-  CK.H.V111.  36, 


Met  1 1. \  KING  HESRY  THE  EIGHTH.  iScent  IV. 

Scene  IV,    The  same.  A  hall  in  Black-Briars. 

Trumpets,  seiuiet,  and  cornets.  Enter  tiuo  Vergers* 
with  short  silver  wands;  next  tJieni,  two  Scribes,  in 
the  habit  of  doctors;  after  them,  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury <?/6';/tv<?//t'r  him,  the  Bish()i)s  of  Lin- 
coln, Ely,  Rochester,  and  Saint  Asai'h  ;  next 
them,  zvith  some  small  distance,  follows  a  (Jenllcmark 
bearing  the  purse,  with  the  great  seal,  and  a  cardi- 
nal's hat;  then,  two  Priests,  bearing  each  a  sih'er  cross,- 
then  a  Gentleman-usher  bare-headed,  accompanied 
with  a  Sergeant-at-arms  bearing  a  sih'er  mace  ;  then: 
two  Gentlemen  bearing  two  great  sih'er  pillars; 
after  them  side  by  side^  the  two  Cardinals.  WoLSEY^ 
and  Campeius  ;  two  Noblemen  with  the  sword  and 
mace.  Then  enter  the  King  and  Queen,  and  their 
trains.  The  King  takes  place  under  the  cloth  of 
state  ;  the  two  Cardinals  sit  under  him  as  judges. 
The  Queen  takes  place  at  some  distance  from  the 
King.  TheV^\'^\\o^s  place  themselves  on  each  side  t  he- 
court,  in  manner  of  a  consistory  ;  between  them,  the 
Scribes.  The  Lords  sit  next  the  Bishops.  The  Crier 
and  the  rest  of  the  Attendants  stand  in  convenient 
order  about  the  hall. 
Wol.  Whilst  our  commission  from  Rome  is  read. 
Let  silence  be  commanded. 

K.  Hen.  What's  the  need  ? 

It  hath  already  publicly  been  read. 
And  on  all  sides  th'  authority  allow'd  ; 
You  may,  then,  spare  that  time. 

lYol  Be't  so.—  Proceed. 

Scribe.  Say,  Henry   King  of  England,  come  into  thtr 
court. 

Crier,  Henry  King  of  England,  &c. 

K.  Hen.  Here.  ,  ^      ,      , 

Scribe.  Say,  Katharine  Queen  of  England,  come  mla 

the  court.  .  ,,     ,      ,    o 

Crier.  Katharine,  Queen  of  England.  cVc. 

r  The  Queen  makes  no  answer,  rises  out  oj  her 
chair,  croes  about  the  court,  comes  to  the 
King,  \uid  kneels  at  his  feet;  then  speaks^ 
Q.  Kath.  Sir,  I  d'esire  you  do  me  right  and  justice  ; 

K.H.VIII.  37.]  V"-  '^9 


Act  //.]  KING  HEXRY  THE  EIGHTH.  [Scene IP 

And  to  bestow  your  pity  on  me  :  for 

I  am  a  most  poor  woman,  and  a  stranger. 

Born  out  of  your  dominions  ;  having  here 

No  judge  indifferent,  nor  no  more  assurance 

Of  equal  friendship  and  proceeding.     Alas,  sir, 

In  what  have  I  offended  you  ?  what  cause 

Hath  my  behavior  given  to  your  displeasure, 

That  thus  you  should  proceed  to  put  me  off, 

And  take  your  good  grace  from  me  ?  Heaven  witness^ 

I've  been  to  you  a  true  and  humble  wife. 

At  all  times  to  your  will  conformable  ; 

Ever  in  fear  to  kindle  your  dislike. 

Yea.  subject  to  your  countenance, —  glad  or  sorry, 

As  I  saw  it  inclin'd.     When  was  the  hour 

I  ever  contradicted  your  desire, 

Or  made  it  not  mine  too  ?     Which  of  your  friends 

Have  I  not  strove  to  love,  although  I  knew 

He  were  mine  enemy  ?  what  friend  of  mine 

That  had  to  him  deriv'd  your  anger,  did  I 

Continue  in  my  liking  ?  nay,  gave  notice 

He  was  from  thence  discharg'd  ?     Sir,  call  to  mind 

That  I  have  been  your  wife,  in  this  obedience, 

L'lnvard  of  twenty  years,  and  have  been  blest 

With  many  children  by  you  :  if,  in  the  course 

And  process  of  this  time,  you  can  report. 

And  prove  it  too,  against  mine  honor  aught, 

My  bond  to  wedlock,  or  my  love  and  duty. 

Against  your  sacred  person,  in  God's  name. 

Turn  me  away  ;  and  let  the  foul'st  contempt 

Shut  door  upon  me,  and  so  give  me  up 

To  the  sharp'st  kind  of  justice.     Please  you,  sir, 

The  king,  your  father,  was  reputed  for 

A  prince  most  prudent,  of  an  excellent 

And  unmatch'd  wit  and  judgment ;  Ferdinand, 

My  father,  king  of  Spain,  was  reckon'd  one 

The  wisest  prince  that  there  had  reign 'd  by  many 

A  year  before  :  it  is  not  to  be  question'd 

That  they  had  gather'd  a  wise  council  to  them 

Of  ever}'  realm,  that  did  debate  this  business. 

Who  deem'd  our  marriage  lawful.      Wherefore  I  humbly 

Beseech  you,  sir,  to  spare  me,  till  I  may 

Be  by  my  friends  in  Spain  advis'd  ;  whose  counsel 

VII.    2QO.  fK.H.VIII.  38 


Act  //.)  KIXG  llESR )  •  THE  I.ICH  TIL  [^^  ,-„^  IV 

I  will  implore  :  if  not,  i'  the  name  of  God, 
Your  pleasure  be  fultiil'd  ! 

Wol.  You  have  here,  lady,  -- 

And  of  your  choice, —  tiiese  reverend  fathers  ;  men 
Of  singular  integrity  and  learning. 
Yea,  the  elect  o'  the  land,  who  are  assembled 
To  plead  your  cause  :  it  shall  be  therefore  bootless 
That  longer  you  defer  the  court  ;  as  well 
For  your  own  quiet,  as  to  rectify 
What  is  unsettled  in  the  king. 

Cam.  His  grace 

Hath  spoken  well  and  justly  :  therefore,  madam, 
It's  fit  this  royal  session  do  proceed  ; 
And  that,  without  delay,  their  arguments 
Be  now  produc'd  and  heard. 

O.  Kath.  Lord  Cardinal, — 

To  you  I  speak. 

U^ol.  Your  pleasure,  madam  ? 

Q.  Kath.  Sir, 

I  am  about  to  weep  ;  but,  thinking  that 
We  are  a  queen, —  or  long  have  dream'd  so, —  certain 
The  daughter  of  a  king,  my  drops  of  tears 
I'll  turn  to  sparks  of  fire. 

IVol.  Be  patient  yet. 

Q.  Kath.   I  will,  when  you  are  humble  ;  nay,  before, 
Or  God  will  punish  me.     I  do  believe, 
Induc'd  by  potent  circumstances,  that 
You  are  mine  enemy ;  and  make  my  challenge 
You  shall  not  be  my  judge  :  for  it  is  you 
Have  blown  this  coal  betwixt  my  lord  and  me,—  _ 
Which  God's  dew  quench  !     Therefore  I  say  again, 
I  utterly  abhor,  yea,  from  my  soul 
Refuse  you  for  my  judge ;  whom,  yet  once  more, 
I  hold  my  most  malicious  foe,  and  think  not 
At  all  a  friend  to  truth. 

Wol.  I  do  profess 

You  speak  not  like  yourself ;  who  ever  yet 
Have  stood  to  chari'ty,  and  display 'd  th'  effects 
Of  disposition  gentle,  and  of  wisdom 

O'ertopping  woman's  power.   Madani.you  do  me  wrong: 
I  have  no  spleen  against  you  ;  nor  injustice 
For  you  or  any  :  how  far  I've  proceeded, 

K.H.VIII,  39.]  VII.   2gi. 


ActJl.]  KIXG  HE.XRV  THE  EIGHTH*  {Scene  IP, 

Or  how  far  further  shall,  is  warranted 

By  a  commission  from  the  consistor}-, 

Yea,  the  whole  consistory  of  Rome.     You  charge  me 

That  I  have  blown  this  coal  :  I  do  deny  it : 

The  king  is  present :  if't  be  known  to  him 

That  I  gainsay  my  deed,  how  may  he  wound. 

And  worthily,  my  falsehood  I  yea,  as  much 

As  you  have  done  my  truth.     But  if  he  know 

That  I  am  free  of  your  report,  he  knows 

I  am  not  of  your  wrong.     Therefore  in  him 

It  lies  to  cure  me  :  and  the  cure  is,  to 

Remove  these  thoughts  from  you  :  the  which  before 

His  highness  shall  speak  in,  I  do  beseech 

You,  gracious  madam,  to  unthink  your  speaking. 

And  to  say  so  no  more. 

Q.  Kath.  My  lord,  my  lord, 

I  am  a  simple  woman,  much  too  weak 
T'   oppose    your  cunning.     You're   meek   and  humble- 
mouth 'd  ; 
You  sign  your  place  and  calling,  in  full  seeming, 
With  meekness  and  humility  ;  but  your  heart 
Is  cramm'd  with  arrogancy,  spleen,  and  pride. 
You  have,  by  fortune,  and  his  highness'  favors. 
Gone  slightly  o'er  low  steps,  and  now  are  mounted 
Where  powers  are  your  retainers  ;  and  your  words. 
Domestics  to  you,  serve  your  will  as't  please 
Yourself  pronounce  their  ofifice.     I  must  tell  you. 
You  tender  more  your  person's  honor  than 
Your  high  profession  spiritual :  that  again 
I  do  refuse  you  for  my  judge  ;  and  here. 
Before  you  all,  appeal  unto  the  Pope, 
To  bring  my  whole  cause  'fore  his  holiness. 
And  to  be  judg'd  by  him. 

\Shc  courtesies  to  the  King,  and  offers  io  defarL 

Cam.  The  queen  is  obstinate, 

Stubborn  to  justice,  apt  t'  accuse  it,  and 
Disdainful  to  be  tried  by't :  'tis  not  well. 
She's  going  away. 

K,  Hen.  Call  her  again. 

Crier.  Katharine   Queen  of  England,  come  into  the 
court. 

Grif*  Madam,  you  are  call'd  back. 

VII.  ags.  liCH.viii.  40. 


A^//.]  KIXG  HENRY  THE  KICHTH.  [s  ,•,;,- //• 

Q.  KatJi.  What  need  you  note  it  ?  pray  you,  keep  your 


WAX 


When  you  are  call'cl,  return.—  Now,  the  Lord  lit-lp, 
They  vex  me  past  my  patience  ! —  Pray  you,  pass  on  ; 
I  will  not  tarry  ;  no,  nor  ever  more 
Upon  this  business  my  appearance  make 
In  any  of  their  courts. 

{^Ext'unt  Queen,  Griffith,  ami  her  other  Attendants, 

K.  He)i.  Go  thy  ways,  Kate  : 

That  man  i'  the  world  who  shall  report  he  has 
A  better  wife,  let  him  in  naught  be  trusted. 
For  speaking-  false  in  that  :  thou  art,  alone  — 
If  thy  rare  qualities,  sweet  gentleness. 
Thy  meekness  saint-like,  wife-like  government, 
Obeying  in  commanding,  and  thy  j^arts 
Sovereign  and  pious  else,  could  speak  thee  out  — 
The  queen  of  earthly  queens  :  —  she's  noble  bom; 
And,  like  her  true  nobility,  she  has 
Carried  herself  towards  me. 

Wol.  Most  gracious  sir. 

In  humblest  manner  I  require  )  our  highness, 
That  it  shall  please  you  to  declare,  in  hearing 
Of  all  these  ears, —  for  where  I'm  robb'd  and  bound, 
There  must  I  be  unloos'd;  although  not  there 
At  once  and  fully  satisfied, —  whether  ever  I 
Did  broach  this  business  to  your  highness ;  or 
Laid  any  scruple  in  your  way,  which  might 
Induce  you  to  the  question  on't?  or  ever 
Have  to  you  — but  with  thanks  to  God  for  such 
A  royal  lady  —  spake  one  the  least  word  that  might 
Be  to  the  prejudice  of  her  present  state, 
Or  touch  of  her  good  person  .'* 

K.  Hen.  My  lord  cardinal, 

I  do  excuse  you ;  yea,  upon  mine  honor. 
I  free  you  from't.     You  are  not  to  be  taught 
That  you  have  many  enemies,  that  know  not 
W^hy  they  are  so,  but,  like  to  village  curs, 
Bark  when  their  fellows  do '  by  some  of  these 
The  queen  is  put  in  anger.     You're  excus'd: 
But  will  vou  be  more  justified.'  you  ever 
Have  wish'd  the  sleeping  of  this  l)usiness ;  never 
Desir'd  it  to  be  stirr'd ;  but  oft  have  hinder'd,  oft, 
K.H.vni.41.3  VII.  203. 


Act  //.]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH  {Scene  IP. 

The  passages  made  toward  it  :  —  on  my  honor, 

1  speak  my  good  lord  cardinal  to  this  point. 

And  thus  far  clear  him.     Now,  what  mov'd  me  to't, 

I  will  be  bold  with  time  and  your  attention  :  — 

Then  mark  th' inducement.     Thus  it  came;  —  give  heed 

to't  :  — 
My  conscience  first  receiv'd  a  tenderness, 
Scruple,  and  prick,  on  certain  speeches  utter'd 
By  the  Bishop  of  Bayonne,  then  French  ambassador ; 
Who  had  been  hither  sent  on  the  debating 
A  marriage  'twixt  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and 
Our  daughter  Mary  :  i'  the  progress  of  this  business, 
Ere  a  determinate  resolution,  he  — 
I  mean  the  bishop  —  did  require  a  respite  ; 
Wherein  he  might  the  king  his  lord  advertise 
Whether  our  daughter  were  legitimate, 
Respecting  this  our  marriage  with  the  dowager, 
Sometimes  our  brother's  wife.     This  respite  shook 
The  bottom  of  my  conscience,  enter'd  me, 
Yea,  with  a  splitting  power,  and  made  to  tremble 
The  region  of  my  breast;  which  forc'd  such  way. 
That  many  maz'd  considerings  did  throng, 
And  press'd  in  with  this  caution.     First,  methought 
I  stood  not  in  the  smile  of  heaven  ;  who  had 
Commanded  nature,  that  my  lady's  womb. 
If  it  conceiv'd  a  male  child  by  me,  should 
Do  no  more  offices  of  life  to't  than 
The  grave  does  to  the  dead  ;  for  her  male  issue 
Or  died  where  they  were  made,  or  shortly  after 
This  world  had  air'd  them  :  hence  I  took  a  thought. 
This  was  a  judgment  on  me  ;  that  my  kingdom, 
Well  worthy  the  best  heir  o'  the  world,  should  not 
Be  gladded  in't  by  me :  then  follows,  that 
I  weigh'd  the  danger  which  my  realms  stood  in 
By  this  my  issue's  fail ;  and  that  gave  to  me 
Many  a  groaning  throe.     Thus  hulling  in 
The  wild  sea  of  my  conscience,  I  did  steer 
Toward  this  remedy,  whereupon  we  are 
Now  present  here  together ;  that's  to  say, 
I  meant  to  rectify  my  conscience  —  which 
I  then  did  feel  full  sick,  and  yet  not  well  — 
By  all  the  reverend  fathers  of  the  land 

VII.  294.  [k.h.vi\     \2, 


Act  //.]  K/XG  NEXK  )  ■  Tin-:  KICII  Til.  [.S\  ,«^  //' 

And  doctors  Icarn'd  :  —  first  I  began  in  private 
Witli  you,  my  Lord  of  Lincoln  ;  you  renumber 
How  under  my  oppression  I  did  reek. 
When  I  first  mov'd  you. 

Lin.  Very  well,  my  liej^e. 

A'.  Hen.  I  have  spoke  long  :  be  pleas'd  yourself  to  say 
How  far  you  satisfied  me. 

Lin.  So  please  your  higliness. 

The  question  did  at  first  so  stagger  me, — 
T3earing  a  state  of  mighty  moment  in't, 
And  consequence  of  dread, —  that  I  committed 
The  daring'st  counsel  which  I  had  to  doubt ; 
And  did  entreat  your  highness  to  this  course 
Which  you  are  running  here. 

K.  Hen.  I  then  mov'd  you, 

JNIy  Lord  of  Canterbury;  and  got  your  leave 
To  make  this  present  summons:  —  unsolicited 
I  left  no  reverend  person  in  this  court ; 
But  by  particular  consent  proceeded 
Under  your  hands  and  seals  :  therefore,  go  on  ; 
For  no  dislike  i'  the  world  against  the  person 
Of  the  good  queen,  but  the  sharp  thorny  points 
Of  my  alleged  reasons,  drive  this  forward: 
Prove  but  our  marriage  lawful,  by  my  life 
\nd  kingly  dignity,  we  are  contented 
To  wear  our  mortal  state  to  come  with  her, 
Katharine  our  queen,  before  the  primest  creature 
That's  paragon 'd  o'  the  world. 

Cam.  So  please  your  highness. 

The  queen  being  absent,  'tis  a  needful  fitness 
That  we  adjourn  this  court  till  further  day: 
■Meanwhile  must  be  an  earnest  motion 
:Made  to  the  queen,  to  call  back  her  appeal 
She  intends  unto  his  holiness.  (  Tfuy  rise  to  depart, 

K.  Hen.   \aside\  I  may  i)erceive 

These  cardinals  trifle  with  me:   I  abhor 
This  dilatory  sloth  and  tricks  of  Rome. 
I\Iy  learn 'd  and  well-beloved  servant.  Cranmer, 
Prithee,  return  :  with  thy  approach,  I  know. 
]\Iy  comfort  comes  along.—  Break  up  the  cmirt  : 
I  say,  set  on.  [Exeunt  in  manner  as  they  entered^ 

K.H.VIII.  43-1  VII.  295. 


A.'illl.l  KIXG  HEXRV  THE  EIGHTH.  [Seen*/, 


ACT    III. 

Scene  I.  London.  Palace  at  Bridewell:  a  room  in  the 
Queen's  apartment. 

The  Queen  and  so?ne  of  her  Women  at  work. 

Q.  Kath.  Take  thy  lute,  wench  :  my  soul  grows  sad 
with  troubles  ; 
Sing,  and  disperse  'em,  if  thou  canst:  leave  working. 

Song. 

Orpheus  with  his  lute  made  trees. 
And  the  mountain-tops  that  freeze. 

Bow  themselves,  when  he  did  sing : 
To  his  music  plants  and  fiowers 
Ever  sprung  ;  as  sun  and  showers 

There  had  made  a  lasting  spring. 

Every  thing  that  heard  him  play. 
Even  the  billows  of  the  sea, 

Hung  their  heads,  and  then  lay  by. 
In  sweet  music  is  such  art, 
Killing  care  and  grief  of  heart 

Fall  asleep,  or  hearing,  die. 

E7iter  a  Gentleman. 

Q.  Kath.   How  now  ! 

Goit.  An't  please  your  grace,  the  two  great  cardinals 
Wait  in  the  presence. 

Q.  Kath.  Would  they  speak  with  me? 

Gent.  They  will'd  me  say  so,  madam. 

Q.  Kath.  Pray  their  graces 

To  come  near.    {Exit  Gent.']    What  can  be  their  business 
With  me,  a  poor  weak  woman,  fall'n  from  favor  } 
I  do  not  like  their  coming,  now  I  think  on't. 
They  should  be  good  men  ;  their  affairs  as  righteous: 
But  all  hoods  make  not  monks. 

Enter  WOLSEY  and  Campeius. 
IVol.  Peace  to  your  highness ! 

Q,  Kath.    Your  graces  find  me  here  part  of  a  house- 
wife : 

VII.  296.  [k.h.viu.  44, 


Act  II I. '\  KIXG  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  \Stemt  K 

I  would  be  all,  aj^ainst  the  worst  may  hapjjcn. 
What  are  your  pleasures  with  me.  reverend  lords? 

Wol.  May't  please  you,  noble  madam,  to  withdraw 
Into  your  private  chamber,  we  shall  give  you 
The  full  cause  of  our  coming. 

(2-  Kath.  Si)eak  it  here  ; 

There's  nothing  I  have  done  yet,  o'  my  conscience. 
Deserves  a  corner:  would  all  other  wonun 
Could  speak  this  with  as  free  a  soul  as  I  do  ! 
My  lords,  I  care  not, —  so  much  I  am  happy 
Above  a  number, —  if  my  actions 
Were  tried  by  every  tongue,  every  eye  saw  'em. 
Envy  and  base  opinion  set  against  'em, 
I  know  my  life  so  even.     If  your  business 
Seek  me  out.  and  that  way  I  am  wife  in, 
Out  with  it  boldly  :  truth  loves  open  dealing. 

WoL    Ta)ita  est  crga  te  inoiiis  intt-gritas,  rcgifia  st-r* 
e?iissiina, — 

Q.  Kath.  O,  good  my  lord,  no  Latin ; 
I  am  not  such  a  truant  since  my  coming, 
As  not  to  know  the  language  I  have  liv'd  in  : 
A   strange  tongue  makes   my  cause   more  strange-sus- 
picious ; 
Pray,  speak  in  English  :  here  are  some  will  thank  you. 
If  you  speak  truth,  for  their  poor  mistress'  sake, — 
Believe  me,  she  has  had  much  wrong :  lord  cardinal, 
The  willing'st  sin  I  ever  yet  committed 
May  be  absolv'd  in  English. 

Wol.  Noble  lady, 

I'm  sorr}'  my  integrity  should  breed  — 
And  service  to  his  majesty  and  you  — 
So  deep  suspicion,  where  all  faith  was  meant. 
We  come  not  by  the  way  of  accusation. 
To  taint  that  honor  every  good  tongue  blesses. 
Nor  to  betray  you  any  way  to  sorrow, — 
You  have  too  much,  good  lady;  but  to  know 
How  you  stand  minded  in  the  weighty  difference 
Between  the  king  and  you;  and  to  deliver, 
Like  free  and  honest  men.  our  just  opinions, 
And  comforts  to  your  cause. 

Cam.  Most  honor'd  madaiP, 

My  Lord  of  York,— out  of  his  noble  nature, 

K.H.VIII.  45.]  VII.  2Q7, 


Act  in:\  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  {Scene  /. 

Zeal  and  obedience  he  still  bore  your  grace, — 
Forgetting,  like  a  good  man,  your  late  censure 
Both  of  his  truth  and  him,  which  was  too  far,— 
Offers,  as  I  do,  in  a  sign  of  peace, 
His  service  and  his  counsel. 

Q.  Kath.  \^Liside\  To  betray  me. — 

My^lords,  I  thank  you  both  for  your  good  wills  \ 
Ye  speak  like  honest  men,— pray  God,  ye  pro^'e  sol  — 
But  how  to  make  ye  suddenly  an  answer. 
In  such  a  point  of  weight,  so  near  mine  honor, — 
More  near  my  life,  I  fear, —  with  my  weak  wit. 
And  to  such  men  of  gravity  and  learning. 
In  truth,  I  know  not.      I  was  set  at  work 
Among  my  maids;  full  little,  God  knows,  looking 
Either  for  such  men  or  such  business. 
For  her  sake  that  I  have  been, —  for  I  feel 
The  last  fit  of  my  greatness, —  good  your  graces. 
Let  me  have  time  and  counsel  for  my  cause  ; 
Alas,  I  am  a  woman,  friendless,  hopeless! 

Wol.  Madam,  you  wrong  the  king's  love  with  these 
fears  : 
Your  hopes  and  friends  are  infinite. 

Q.  Kath.  In  England 

But  little  for  my  profit :  can  you  think,  lords, 
That  any  Englishman  dare  give  me  counsel } 
Or  be  a  known  friend,  "gainst  his  highness'  pleasure,— 
Though  he  be  grown  so  desperate  to  be  honest, — 
.\nd  live  a  subject  ?     Nay,  forsooth,  my  friends. 
They  that  must  weigh  out  my  afflictions. 
They  that  my  trust  must  grow  to,  live  not  here: 
They  are,  as  all  my  other  comforts,  far  hence. 
In  mine  own  countr}-,  lords. 

Cam.  I  would  your  grace 

Would  leave  your  griefs,  and  take  my  counsel. 

Q.KatJi,  How,  sir? 

Cam.  Put  your  main  cause  into  the  king's  protection; 
He's  loving  and  most  gracious  :  'twill  be  much 
Both  for  your  honor  better  and  your  cause  ; 
For  if  the  trial  of  the  law  o'ertake  ye, 
You'll  part  away  disgrac'd. 

Wol.  '  He  tells  you  rightly. 

Q.  Kath.  Ye  tell  me  what  ye  wish  for  both, —  my  ruin  : 

VII.   298.  U.H.VIII.  46, 


Aci  ///.]  /CLVG  in.NR  \ '  Tin:  j.ichtii.  \SitHt  /. 

Is  this  your  Christian  counsel  ?  out  upon  ye! 
Heaven  is  above  all  yet ;  there  sits  a  Judge 
That  no  king  can  corrupt. 

Cam.  Your  rage  mistakes  us. 

Q.  Kath.  The  more  shame  for  ye :  holy  men  I  thought 

ye. 

Upon  my  soul,  two  reverend  cardinal  virtues  ; 

But  cardinal  sins  and  hollow  hearts  I  fear  ye  ; 

Mend  'em,  for  shame,  my  lords.     Is  this  your  comfort.^ 

The  cordial  that  ye  bring  a  wretched  lady, — 

A  woman  lost  amf»ng  ye,  laugh'd  at,  scorn 'd  ? 

I  will  not  wish  ye  half  my  miseries  • 

I  have  more  charity  :  but  say,  I  warn'd  ye  ; 

Take  heed,  for  heaven's  sake,  take  heed,  lest  at  once 

The  burden  of  my  sorrows  fall  upon  ye. 

Wol.  Madam,  this  is  a  mere  distraction  ; 
You  turn  the  good  we  offer  into  envy. 

Q.  Kath.    Ye  turn  me  into  nothing:  woe  upon  ye, 
And  all  such  false  professors  !     Would  you  have  me  — 
If  you  have  any  justice,  any  pity, 
If  ye  be  any  thing  but  churchmen's  habits  — 
Put  my  sick  cause  into  his  hands  that  hates  me? 
Alas,  'has  banish 'd  me  his  bed  already, — 
His  love,  too  long  ago  !     I'm  old,  my  lords, 
And  all  the  fellowship  I  hold  now  with  him 
Is  only  my  obedience.     What  can  happen 
To  me  above  this  wretchedness  }  all  your  studies 
Make  me  a  curse  like  this. 

Cam.  Your  fears  are  worse. 

(2-  Kath.   Have  I  liv'd  thus  long—  let  me  speak  myself, 
Since  virtue  finds  no  friends  —  a  wife,  a  true  one  ? 
A  woman —  I  dare  say,  without  vain-glory  — 
Never  yet  branded  with  suspicion  ? 
Have  I  with  all  my  full  affections 

Still  met  the  king?  lov'd  him  next  heav'n  .- ^obey'd  him? 
Been,  out  of  fondness,  superstitious  to  him  } 
Almost  forgot  my  prayers  to  content  iiim  } 
And  am  I  thus  rewarded  }  'tis  not  well,  lords. 
Bring  me  a  constant  woman  to  her  husband. 
One  that  ne'er  dream'd  a  joy  beyond  his  pleasure; 
And  to  that  woman,  when  she  has  done  most, 
Yet  will  I  add  an  honor,—  a  great  jxitience. 

K.H.VIII.  47.]  VII.  2^^ 


Act  I  J  I.]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  iSceng /. 

IVoL   Madam,  you  wander  from  the  good  we  aim  at. 

Q.  Kath.   My  lord,  I  dare  not  make  myself  so  guilty. 
To  give  up  willingly  that  noble  title 
Your  master  wed  me  to  :  nothing  but  death 
Shall  e'er  divorce  my  dignities, 

Wol.  Pray,  hear  me. 

Q.  Kath.  Would  I  had  never  trod  this  English  earth; 
Or  felt  the  flatteries  that  grow  upon  it ! 
Ye've  angels'  faces,  but  heaven  knows  your  hearts. 
What  will  become  of  me  now,  wretched  lady.? 
I  am  the  most  unhappy  woman  living. — 
[To  her  IVomtvi]    Alas,    poor  wenches,  where  are  now 

your  fortunes ! 
Shipwreck'd  upon  a  kingdom,  where  no  pity. 
No  friends,  no  hope;  no  kindred  weep  for  me; 
Almost  no  grave  allow'd  me  :  —  like  the  lily 
That  once  was  mistress  of  the  field  and  flourish'd, 
I'll  hang  my  head  and  perish. 

Jl^o/.  If  your  grace 

Could  but  be  brought  to  know  our  ends  are  honest. 
You'd  feel  more  comfort.     Why  should  we,  good  lady. 
Upon  what  cause,  wrong  you  ?  alas,  our  places. 
The  way  of  our  profession  is  against  it  : 
We  are  to  cure  such  sorrows,  not  to  sow  'em. 
For  goodness'  sake,  consider  what  you  do  ; 
How  you  may  hurt  yourself,  ay,  utterly 
Grow  from  the  king's  acquaintance,  by  this  carriage. 
The  hearts  of  princes  kiss  obedience. 
So  much  they  love  it ;  but  to  stubborn  spirits 
They  swell,  and  grow  as  terrible  as  storms. 
I  know  you  have  a  gentle-noble  temper, 
A  soul  as  even  as  a  calm  :  pray,  think  us 
Those  we  profess,  peace-makers,  friends,  and  ser\^ants. 

Ca;n.  Madam,  you'll  find  it  so.  You  wrong  your  virtues 
AVith  these  weak  women's  fears:  a  noble  spirit. 
As  yours  was  put  into  you,  ever  casts 
Such  doubts,  as  false  coin,  from  it.     The  king  loves  you ; 
Beware  you  lose  it  not :  for  us,  if  please  you 
To  trust  us  in  your  business,  we  are  ready 
To  use  our  utmo-t  studies  in  your  ser\'ice. 

Q.  Kath.  Do  what  ye  will,  my  lords ;  and,  pray,  for. 
give  me, 

VII.  3«x  CK.H.vin.  ifi. 


fictnr.\  KING  liE.\KV  THE  E.GUIJL  \S.tnf  li. 

If  I  have  us'd  myself  unmannerly  ; 

You  know  I  am  a  woman,  lacking;  wit 

To  make  a  seemly  answer  to  such  persons. 

Pray,  do  my  service  to  his  majesty  : 

He  has  my  heart  yet ;  and  shall  have  my  prayers 

While  I  shall  have  my  life.     Come,  reve'rencrfathers. 

Bestow  your  counsels  on  me  :  she  now  begs, 

That  little  thought,  when  she  set  footing  here, 

She  should  have  bought  her  dignities  so  dear.      [Ex^unr^ 

Scene  II.     T/i^:  same.     Ante-chamber  io  the  King's 
apartment  in  the  palace. 

Enter  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  the  Duke  of  Sl'FFOLk, 
the  Earl  of  Surrey,  and  the  Lord  Chamberlain. 

Nor.  If  you  will  now  unite  in  your  complaints. 
And  force  them  with  a  constancy,  the  cardinal 
Cannot  stand  under  them  :  if  you  omit 
The  offer  of  this  time,  I  cannot  promise 
But  that  you  shall  sustain  n:ore  new  disgraces, 
With  these  you  bear  already. 

Siir.  I  am  joyful 

To  meet  the  least  occasion  that  may  give  me 
Remembrance  of  my  father-in-law,  the  duke, 
To  be  reveng'd  on  him. 

Suf.  Which  of  the  peers 

Have  uncontemn'd  gone  by  him,  or  at  least 
Strangely  neglected.^  when  did  he  regard 
The  stamp  of  nobleness  in  any  person 
Out  of  himself.^ 

Cham.  My  lords,  you  speak  your  pleasures: 

What  he  deserves  of  you  and  me  I  know ; 
What  we  can  do  to  him, —  though  now  the  time 
Gives  way  to  us, —  I  much  fear.      If  you  cannot 
Bar  his  access  to  the  king,  never  attempt 
Any  thing  on  him  ;  for  he  hath  a  witchcraft 
Over  the  king  in's  tongue. 

Nor.  O.  fear  him  not ; 

His  spell  in  that  is  out :  the  king  hath  found 
Matter  against  him  that  for  ever  mars 
The  honey  of  his  language.     No.  he's  settled. 
Not  to  come  off,  in  his  displeasure. 

K.H.VIII.  49,]  VII.   301. 


.4  ci  ///.}  A'JyG  IIEXR I '  THE  EIGH  TH.  {Scene  II 

Sin\  Sir, 

I  should  be  glad  to  hear  such  news  as  this 
Once  every  hour. 

Xor.  Believe  it,  this  is  true  : 

In  the  divorce  his  contrary  proceedings 
Are  all  unfolded  ;  wherein  he  appears 
As  I  would  wish  mine  enemy. 

Sitr.  How  came 

His  practices  to  light? 

Suf.  Most  strangely. 

Siir,  O,  how,  how  ? 

Suf.  The  cardinal's  letter  to  the  Pope  miscarried. 
And  came  to  th'  eye  o'  the  king :  wherein  was  read. 
How  that  the  cardinal  did  entreat  his  holiness 
To  stay  the  judgment  o'  the  divorce  ;  for  if 
It  did  take  place,  "  I  do,"  quoth  he,  "  perceive 
]\Iy  king  is  tangled  in  affection  to 
A  creature  of  the  queen's,  Lady  Anne  BuUen/* 

Su)\  Has  the  king  this  } 

Suf,  Believe  it. 

Sur.  Will  this  worK  ? 

Cham.  The  king  in  this  perceives  him,  how  he  coasts 
And  hedges  his  own  way.     But  in  this  point 
All  his  tricks  founder,  and  he  brings  his  physic 
After  his  patient's  death  :  the  king  already 
Hath  married  the  fair  lady. 

Su?-.  Would  he  had  ! 

Suf.  May  you  be  happy  in  your  wish,  my  lord  I 
For,  I  profess,  you  have't. 

Sur.  Now,  all  my  joy 

Trace  the  conjunction  ! 

Suf  My  amen  to't ! 

^yor.  All  men's ! 

Suf.  There's  order  given  for  her  coronation  : 
Marry,  this  is  yet  but  young,  and  may  be  left 
To  some  ears  unrecounted.  —  But,  my  lords. 
She  is  a  gallant  creature,  and  complete 
In  mind  and  feature:  I  persuade  me,  from  her 
Will  fall  some  blessing  to  this  land,  which  shall 
In  it  be  memoriz'd. 

Sur,  But,  will  the  king 

VII.  302.  [ICH.VIII.  50^ 


Act  ril.)  KING  J/EXRV  THE  JIGHTJl.  \_S<f'if  li 

Dig'est  this  letter  of  the  cardinal's? 
The  Lord  forbid  ! 

Noi^,  Marry,  amen  : 

Siif.  No,  no  ; 

There  be  more  wasps  that  ])uzz  about  his  nose 
Will  make  this  sting  the  sooner.     Cardinal  Campeius 
Is  stol'n  away  to  Rome  ;  hath  ta'en  no  leave  ; 
Has  left  the  cause  o'  the  king-  unhandled  ;  and 
Is  posted,  as  the  agent  of  our  cardinal. 
To  second  all  his  plot.     I  do  assure  you 
The  king  cried  "  Ha  !  "  at  this. 

Cham.  Now,  God  incense  him. 

And  let  him  cry  "  Ha  !  "  louder  ! 

Nor.  But.  my  lord, 

When  returns  Cranmer  ? 

Siif.   He  is  return'd  in  his  opinions;  which 
Have  satisfied  the  king  for  his  divorce. 
Together  with  all  famous  colleges 
Almost  in  Christendom  .  shortly,  I  believe, 
His  second  marriage  shall  be  publish'd,  and 
Her  coronation.     Katharine  no  more 
Shall  be  call'd  queen,  but  princess  dowager 
And  widow  to  Prince  Arthur. 

No)-.  This  same  Cranmer's 

A  worthy  fellow,  and  hath  ta'en  much  pain 
In  the  king's  business. 

Suf.  He  has  ;  and  we  shall  see  him 

For  it  an  archbishop. 

Nor,  So  I  hear. 

Suf.  'Tis  so.— 

The  cardinal  1 

Enter  WOLSEY  and  Cromwell. 

Nor,  Observe,  observe,  he's  moody. 

Wol,  The  packet,  Cromwell, 
Gave't  you  the  king.^ 

Croni.  To  his  own  hand,  in's  bedchamber. 

IVol.   Look'd  he  o'  th'  inside  of  the  papers? 

Crom.  .      Trcscntl) 

He  did  unseal  them  :  and  the  first  he  view'd. 
He  did  it  with  a  serious  mind  ;  a  heed 
K.H.VIII.  5X.)  VII.  303. 


Act  TIT.']  KIXG  HEXRY  THE  EIGHTH.  IScere  IK 

AVas  in  his  countenance.     You  he  bade 
Attend  him  here  this  morning. 

]Vol.  Is  he  ready- 

To  come  abroad  ? 

Cro?fi.  I  think,  by  this  he  is. 

JVol.   Leave  me  awhile.  \_Exzt  CromwelL 

It  shall  be  to  the  Duchess  of  Alencon, 
The  French  king's  sister  :  he  shall  marry  her. — 
Anne  Bullen  !  No  ;  I'll  no  Anne  Bullens  for  him  : 
There's  more  in'tthan  fair  visage — Bullen  ! 
No,  we'll  no  Bullens. — Speedily  I  wish 
To  hear  from  Rome. — The  Marchioness  of  Pembroke  * 

Nor.  He's  discontented. 

Siif.  May  be,  he  hears  the  king 

Does  whet  his  anger  to  him. 

Sur.  Sharp  enough. 

Lord,  for  thy  justice! 

JVo/.     The    late     queen's    gentlewoman,    a    knight's 
daughter, 
To  be  her  mistress'  mistress!  the  queen's  queen  ' — ■ 
This  candle  burns  not  clear:  'tis  I  must  snuff  it  ; 
Then  out  it  goes. — What  though  I  know  her  virtuous 
And  well  deserving?  yet  I  know  her  for 
A  spleeny  Lutheran  ;  and  not  wholesome  to 
Our  cause,  that  she  should  lie  i'  the  bosom  of 
Our  hard-rul'd  king.     Again,  there  is  sprung  up 
An  heretic,  an  arch  one,  Cranmer;  one 
Hath  crawl'd  into  the  favor  of  the  king, 
And  is  his  oracle. 

JVor.  He's  vex'd  at  something, 

Stn-.  I  would  'twere    something   that  would    fret   the 
string. 
The  master-cord  on's  heart ! 

Siif.  The  king,  the  king  ! 

Enter  the  King,  reading  a  schedule,  and  LOVELL. 

K.  Hen.  What  piles  of  wealth  hath  he  accumulated 
To  his  own  portion  !  and  what  expense  by  th'  hour 
Seems  to  flow  from  him  !     How,  i'  the  name  of  thrift. 
Does  he  rake  this  together?  —  Now,  my  lords, — 
Saw  you  the  cardinal  ? 

Nor,  xVIy  lord,  we  have 

VII.  304.  [k.h.viii.  St. 


Act  1 1 1. '\  KING  HESKV  THE  EIC.U  III.  [Scent  H, 

Stood  here  observing  him  :  some  strange  commotion 
Is  in  his  brain  :  he  bites  his  hp,  and  starts; 
Stops  on  a  sudden,  looks  upon  the  ground, 
Then  lays  his  finger  on  his  temple  ;  straight 
Springs  out  into  fast  gait ;  then  stops  again, 
Strikes  his  breast  hard  ;  and  anon  he  casts 
His  eye  against  the  moon  :  in  most  strange  posture* 
We've  seen  him  set  himself. 

K.  Hen.  It  may  well  be  ; 

There  is  a  mutiny  in's  mind.     This  morning 
Papers  of  state  he  sent  me  to  peruse, 
As  I  requir'd  :  and  wot  you  what  I  found 
There, — on  my  conscience,  put  unwittingly? 
Forsooth,  an  inventor}-,  thus  importing. — 
The  several  parcels  of  his  plate,  his  treasure, 
Rich  stuffs,  and  ornaments  of  household  ;  which 
I  find  at  such  proud  rate,  that  it  out-speaks 
Possession  of  a  subject. 

Nor.  It's  heaven's  will: 

Some  spirit  put  this  paper  in  the  packet, 
To  bless  your  eye  withal. 

K.  Hen.  If  we  did  think 

His  contemplation  were  above  the  earth. 
And  fix'd  on  spiritual  objects,  he  should  still 
Dwell  in  his  musings  :  but  I  am  afraid 
His  thinkings  are  below  the  moon,  not  worth 
His  serious  considering. 

\^Takes  his  seat,  and  whispers  Lcn'elL, 
liiJio goes  to  W'olsey. 

Wol.  Heaven  forgive  me!  — 

Ever  God  bless  your  highness ! 

K.  Hen.  Good  my  lord. 

You're  full  of  heavenly  stuff,  and  bear  the  inventory 
Of  your  best  graces  in  your  mind  ;  the  which 
You  were  now  running  o'er:  you  have  scarce  timt 
To  steal  from  spiritual  leisure  a  brief  span 
To  keep  your  earthly  audit :  sure,  in  that 
I  deem  you  an  ill  husband,  and  am  glad 
To  have  you  therein  my  companion. 

Wol.  Sir, 

For  holy  offices  I  have  a  time ;  a  time 
To  think  upon  the  part  of  business  whick 
K.H.V111.53.]  VII.  305. 


Actin.\  KIXG  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  \Scene Ih 

I  bear  i'  the  state ;  and  nature  does  require 
Her  times  of  preservation,  which  perforce 
i,  her  frail  son,  amongst  my  brethren  mortal. 
Must  give  my  tendance  to. 

K.  Hc)i.  You  have  said  well. 

Wol.   And  ever  may  your  highness  yoke  together. 
As  I  will  lend  you  cause,  my  doing  well 
With  my  well  saying  ! 

K.  Hen.  'Tis  well  said  again  ; 

And  'tis  a  kind  of  good  deed  to  say  well : 
And  yet  words  are  no  deeds.     My  father  lov'd  you  : 
He  said  he  did  ;  and  with  his  deed  did  crown 
His  word  upon  you.     Since  I  had  my  office, 
I've  kept  you  next  my  heart  ;  have  not  alone 
Employ'd  you  where  high  profits  might  come  home, 
But  par'd  my  present  havings,  to  bestow 
My  bounties  upon  you. 

Wol.  \aside\  What  should  this  mean  } 

Sur.    [aside  to  the  others.\    The   Lord   increase   this 

business  I 

K.  Hen.  Have  I  not  made  you 

The  prime  man  of  the  state  }  I  pray  you,  tell  me. 
If  what  I  now  pronounce  you  have  found  true  : 
And,  if  you  may  confess  it,  say  withal. 
If  you  are  bound  to  us  or  no.     What  say  you  .-^ 

Wol.  My  sovereign,  I  confess  your  royal  graces, 
Shower'd  on  me  daily,  have  been  more  than  could 
My  studied  purposes  requite ;  which  went 
Beyond  all  man's  endeavors  : —  my  endeavors 
Have  ever  come  too  short  of  my  desires, 
Yet  fil'd  with  my  abilities:  mine  own  ends 
Have  been  mine  so,  that  evermore  they  pointed 
To  the  good  of  your  most  sacred  person  and 
The  profit  of  the  state.     For  your  great  graces 
Heap'd  upon  me,  poor  underserver,  I 
Can  nothing  render  but  allegiant  thanks  ; 
My  prayers  to  heaven  for  you  ;  my  loyalty. 
Which  ever  has  and  ever  shall  be  growing, 
Till  death,  that  winter,  kill  it. 

K.  Hen.  Fairly  answer'd  ; 

A  loyal  and  obedient  subject  is 
Therein  illustrated  :  the  honor  of  it 
Does  pay  the  act  of  it ;  as,  i'  the  contrary, 

VII.  -xpt.  [k.h.viii.  54. 


4ct  in.']  KING  HEXRY  THE  EIGHTH.  \S.tne  IL 

The  foulness  is  the  punishment.     I  j^resume 
That,  as  my  hand  has  open'cl  bounty  to  you, 
My  heart  dropp'd  love,  my  power  rain'd  honor,  more 
On  you  than  any ;  so  your  hand  and  heart. 
Your  brain,  and  every  function  of  your  power, 
.Should,  notwithstanding  that  your  bond  of  duty, 
As  'twere  in  love's  particular,  be  more 
To  me,  your  friend,  than  any. 

Wol.  I  do  profess 

That  for  your  highness'  good  I  ever  lajjor'd 
More  than  mine  own  ;  that  am,  have,  and  will  be, — 
Though  all  the  world  should  crack  their  duty  to  you. 
And  throw  it  from  their  soul  ;  though  perils  did 
Abound,  as  thick  as  thought  could  make  'em,  and 
Appear  in  forms  more  horrifl, —  yet  my  duty, 
As  dotli  a  rock  against  the  chiding  flood. 
Should  the  approach  of  this  wild  river  break, 
And  stand  unshaken  yours. 

K.  Hen.  'Tis  nobly  spoken. — 

Take  notice,  lords,  he  has  a  loyal  breast. 
For  you  have  seen  him  open't. —  Read  o'er  this  ; 

[Gh'/nx  lihn papers. 
And  after,  this  :  and  then  to  breakfast  with 
What  appetite  you  have. 

\Exit,froiuniitg  upon  Wolsey:  the  Xobles  throng 
after  him,  sniiling  and  ichi'sperhtg. 

Wol.  What  should  this  mean  } 

What  sudden  anger's  this?  how  have  I  reap'd  it? 
He  parted  frowning  from  me,  as  if  ruin 
Leap'd  from  his  eyes  :  so  looks  the  chafed  lion 
Upon  the  daring  huntsman  that  has  gall'd  him ; 
Then  makes  him  nothing.     I  must  read  this  paper ; 
1  fear,  the  story  of  his  anger.— 'Tis  so  ; 
This  paper  has  undone  me  : —  'tis  th'  account 
Of  all  that  world  of  wealth  I've  drawn  together 
For  mine  own  ends  ;  indeed,  to  gain  the  Popedom, 
And  fee  mv  friends  in  Rome.     O  negligence. 
Fit  for  a  focSl  to  fall  by  !  what  cross  devil 
Made  me  put  this  main  secret  in  the  i)acket 
I  sent  the  king.^ —  Is  there  no  way  to  cure  this? 
No  new  device  to  beat  this  from  his  brains? 
I  know  'twill  stir  him  strongly  ;  yot  I  know 

K.H.VIII.  55.]  VII.  307. 


Act  III. '\  KIXG  HEXRY  THE  EIGHTH.  [Scene  II. 

A  way,  if  it  take  right,  in  spite  of  fortune. 

Will    bring  me     off   again. —  What's  this  ?  —  "  To   the 

Pope "  ! 
The  letter,  as  I  live,  with  all  the  business 
I  writ  to's  holiness.     Nay,  then,  farewell ! 
I've  touch'd  the  highest  point  of  all  my  greatness  ; 
And,  from  that  full  meridian  of  my  glor)', 
I  haste  now  to  my  setting  :  I  shall  fall 
Like  a  bright  exhalation  in  the  evening, 
And  no  man  see  me  more. 

Re-enter  the  Dukes  of  NORFOLK  and  SUFFOLK,  the 
Earl  of  Surrey,  and  the  Lord  Chamberlain. 

Nor.  Hear  the  king's  pleasure,  cardinal ;  who  commands 
you 
To  render  up  the  great  seal  presently 
Into  our  hands  ;  and  to  confine  yourself 
To  Asher-house,  my  Lord  of  Winchester's, 
Till  vou  hear  further  from  his  highness. 

\Vol.  Stay,— 

Where's  your  commission,   lords  ?  words  cannot  carry 
Authority  so  weighty. 

Siif.  Who  dare  cross  'em, 

Bearing  the  king's  will  from  his  mouth  expressly  ? 

Wol.  Till  I  find  more  than  will  or  words  to  do  it, — 
I  mean  your  malice, —  know,  officious  lords, 
I  dare  and  must  deny  it.     Now  I  feel 
Of  what  coarse  metal  ye  are  molded, —  envy  : 
How  eagerly  ye  follow  my  disgrace. 
As  if  it  fed  ye  !  and  how  sleek  and  wanton 
Ye  appear  in  every  thing  may  bring  my  ruin  ! 
Follow  your  envious  courses,  men  of  malice  ; 
You've  Christian  warrant  for  'em,  and,  no  doubt. 
In  time  will  find  their  fit  rewards.     That  seal. 
You  ask  with  such  a  violence,  the  king  — 
Mine  and  your  master  — •  with  his  own  hand  gave  me ; 
Bade  me  enjoy  it,  with  the  place  and  honors. 
During  my  life ;  and,  to  confirm  his  goodness, 
Tied  it  by  letters-patents : —  now,  who'll  take  it.^ 

Sur,   The  king,  that  gave  it. 

Wol,  It  must  be  himself,  then 

VII.  308.  [k.h.viii.  s6k 


A ct  riT.'\  KING  HEXR 1 '  TH E  EICH Til.  [S.ene  If. 

Sur.  Thou'rt  a  proud  traitor,  priest. 

Wol.  Proud  lord,  thou  liest : 

Within  these  forty  hours  Surrey  durst  better 
Have  burnt  that  tongue  than  said  so. 

Sur.  Thy  ambition. 

Thou  scarlet  sin,  robb'd  this  bewailing  land 
Of  noble  Buckingham,  my  father-in-law  : 
The  heads  of  all  thy  brother  cardinals  — 
With  thee  and  all  thy  best  parts  bound  together  — 
Weigh'd  not  a  hair  of  his.     Plague  of  your  policy! 
You  sent  me  deputy  for  Ireland  ; 
Far  from  his  succor,  from  the  king,  from  all 
That  might  have  mercy  on  the  fault  thou  gav'st  him; 
WHiilst  your  great  goodness,  out  of  holy  pity, 
Absolv'd  him  with  an  ax. 

Wol.  This,  and  all  else 

This  talking  lord  can  lay  upon  my  credit, 
I  answer  is  most  false.     The  duke  by  law 
Found  his  deserts  :  how  innocent  I  was 
From  any  private  malice  in  his  end. 
His  noble  jury  and  foul  cause  can  witness.^ 
If  I  lov'd  many  words,  lord,  I  should  tell  you 
You  have  as  little  honesty  as  honor  ; 
That  I  in  the  way  of  loyalty  and  truth 
Toward  the  king,  my  ever  royal  master. 
Dare  mate  a  sounder  man  than  Surrey  can  be. 
And  all  that  love  his  follies. 

Sur.  By  my  soul. 

Your  long  coat,  priest,  protects  you  ;  thou  shouldst  fed 
My  sword  i'  the  life-blood  of  thee  else.—  My  lords, 
Can  ye  endure  to  hear  this  arrogance  } 
And  from  this  fellow.?     If  we  live  thus  tamely. 
To  be  thus  jaded  by  a  piece  of  scarlet. 
Farewell  nobility  ;  let  his  grace  go  forward. 
And  dare  us  with  his  cap  like  larks. 

IVol.  -^11  goodness 

Is  poison  to  thv  stomach. 

Siir.  '  Yes,  that  goodness 

Of  gleaning  all  the  land's  wealth  into  one, 
Into  your  own  hands,  cardinal,  by  extortion  ; 
The  goodness  of  your  intercepted  packets 
You  writ  to  the  Pope  against  the  king :  your  goodness, 

K.H.VIII.  k:\  VII.  309, 


Act  III.]  KIXG  HEXRV  THE  EIGHTH.  IScene  11, 

Since  vou  provoke  me,  shall  be  most  notorious.—- 

My  Lord  of  Norfolk, —  as  you're  truly  noble. 

As  you  respect  the  common  good,  the  state 

Of  our  despis'd  nobility,  our  issues. 

Who,  if  he  live,  will  scaixe  be  g-entlemen, — 

Produce  the  grand  sum  of  his  sins,  the  articles 

Collected  from  his  life  :  —  I'll  startle  you 

Worse  than  the  sacring  bell,  when  the  brown  wench 

Lay  kissing  in  your  arms,  lord  cardinal. 

IVol.  How  much,  methinks,  I  could  despise  this  man. 
But  that  I'm  bound  in  charity  against  it ! 

yor.  Those  articles,  my  lord,  are  in  the  king's  hand : 
But,  thus  much,  they  are  foul  ones. 

JVol.  So  much  fairer 

And  spotless  shall  mine  innocence  arise, 
When  the  king  knows  my  truth. 

Sh?-.  This  cannot  save  you : 

I  thank  my  memory,  I  yet  remember 
Some  of  these  articles  ;  and  out  they  shall. 
Now,  if  you  can  blush,  and  cry  guilty,  cardinal, 
You'll  show  a  little  honesty. 

IVoL  •  Speak  on,  sir; 

I  dare  your  worst  objections  :  if  I  blush. 
It  is  to  see  a  nobleman  want  manners. 

Sur.  I  had  rather  want  those  than  my  head. —  Have 
at  you ! 
First,  that,  without  the  king's  assent  or  knowledge. 
You  wrought  to  be  a  legate  ;  by  which  power 
You  maim'd  the  jurisdiction  of  all  bishops. 

Nor.  Then,  that  in  all  you  writ  to  Rome,  or  else 
To  foreign  princes,  Ego  et  Rex  mens 
Was  still  inscrib'd ;  in  which  you  brought  the  king . 
To  be  your  servant. 

Suf'.  Then,  that,  without  the  knowledge 

Either  of  king  or  council,  when  you  went 
Ambassador  to  th'  emperor,  you  made  bold 
To  carry  into  Flanders  the  great  seal. 

Siir.  Item,  you  sent  a  large  commission 
To  Gregory  de  Cassalis,  to  conclude. 
Without  the  king's  will  or  the  state's  allowance, 
A.  league  between  his  highness  and  Ferrara. 
Siif,  That,  out  of  mere  ambition,  you  have  caus'd 

VII.  310.  [k.h.viii.  5& 


Acillf.}  KING  nr.SRV  THE  EICIITH.  i^<tne  t 

Your  holy  hat  to  be  stanip'd  on  tlic  kind's  ctJin. 

Siir,   Then,  that  you've  sent  innumerahlt-  substance — 
By  what  means  <;-ot,  I  leave  to  your  own  conscience  — 
To  furnish  Rome,  and  to  prepare  the  ways 
You  have  for  (lin^niiies;  to  the  mere  undoing 
Of  all  the  kintjdom.     Many  more  there  are  ; 
Which,  since  they  are  of  nou.  and  odious, 
I  will  not  taint  my  mouth  with, 

Cham.  O  my  lord, 

Press  not  a  fallings  man  too  far  !  'tis  virtue  : 
His  faults  lie  open  to  the  laws  ;  let  them. 
Not  you,  correct  him.     My  heart  weeps  to  see  him 
So  little  of  his  great  self. 

Siir.  1  forgive  him. 

Suf.  Lord  cardinal,  the  kin<;"s  further  pleasure  is,— 
Because  all  those  thing^s  you  have  done  of  late. 
By  your  power  legatine,  within  this  kingdom. 
Fall  into  the  compass  of  ?i  prccnimiiri', — 
That  therefore  such  a  writ  be  su'd  against  you  ; 
To  forfeit  all  your  goods,  lands,  tenements, 
Chattels,  and  whatsoever,  and  to  be 
Out  of  the  king's  protection  :  —  this  is  my  charge. 

Nor.  And  so  we'll  leave  you  to  your  meditations 
How  to  live  better.     For  your  stubborn  answer 
About  the  giving  back  the  great  seal  to  us. 
The  king  shall  know  it,  and,  no  doubt,  shall  thank  you. 
So  fare  you  well,  my  little-good  lord  cardinal. 

\  Exeunt  all  I  xct-pt  Wohey 
Wol.  So  farewell  to  the  little  good  you  bear  me. 
Farewell,  a  long  farewell,  to  all  my  greatness! 
This  is  the  state  of  man  :  to-day  he  jiuts  ft)rii^ 
The  tender  leaves  of  hojie ;  to-morrow  blossoms. 
And  bears  his  blushing  honors  thick  unon  him; 
The  third  dav  comes  a  frost,  a  killing  frost. 
And  —  when  he  thinks,  good  easy  man.  full  surely 
His  greatness  is  a-rijiening  —  ni|)s  his  root. 
And  then  he  falls,  as  I  do.     I  have  ventur'd. 
Like  little  wanton  boys  that  swim  on  bladders. 
This  manv  summers  in  a  sea  of  glor)- : 
But  far  bevond  my  depth  :  my  high-blown  jnide 
At  length  broke  under  tiie ;  and  now  has  left  me. 
Weary  and  old  with  service,  to  the  mercy 

K.H.VIII.  59.]  VII.  3IX. 


A£^1II.'\  KIXG  HEXRY  THE  EIGHTH.  {Scetull, 

Of  a  rude  stream,  that  must  for  ever  hide  me. 
Vain  pomp  and  glory  of  this  world,  I  hate  ye: 
I  feel  my  heart  new  open'd.     O  how  wretched 
Is  that  poor  man  that  hangs  on  princes'  favors  I 
There  is.  betwixt  that  smile  we  would  aspire  to. 
That  sweet  aspect  of  princes,  and  their  ruin. 
More  pangs  and  fears  than  wars  or  women  have; 
And  when  he  falls,  he  falls  like  Lucifer, 
Never  to  hope  again. 

Enter  Cromwell,  amasedly. 

Why,  how  now,  Cromwell ! 

Crom.  I  have  no  power  to  speak,  sir. 

Wol.  What,  amaz'd 

At  my  misfortunes  ?  can  thy  spirit  wonder 
A  great  man  should  decline  1     Nay,  an  you  weep, 
I'm  fall'n  indeed. 

Croni.  How  does  vour  grace  } 

IVoL  '  Why,  well; 

Never  so  truly  happy,  my  good  Cromwell. 
I  know  m\self  now  ;  and  I  feel  within  me 
A  peace  above  all  earthly  dignities, 
A  still  and  quiet  conscience.     The  king  has  cur'd  me,. 
I  humbly  thank  his  grace  ;  and  from  these  shoulders. 
These  ruin'd  pillars,  out  of  pity,  taken 
A  load  would  sink  a  navy,— too  much  honor: 
O  'tis  a  burden,  Cromwell,  'tis  a  burden 
Too  heavy  for  a  man  that  hopes  for  heaven ! 

Crom.  I'm  glad  your  grace  has  made  that  right  use  ol: 
it. 

IVol.  I  hope  I  have  :  I'm  able  now,  methinks  — 
Out  of  a  fortitude  of  soul  I  feel  — 
T'  endure  more  miseries  and  greater  far 
Than  my  weak-hearted  enemies  dare  offer. — 
What  news  abroad  } 

Crom.  The  heaviest  and  the  worst 

Is  your  displeasure  with  the  king. 

IVol.  God  bless  him  ! 

Crom.  The  next  is,  that  Sir  Thomas  More  is  chosen 
Lord  chancellor  in  your  place. 

IVoi.  That's  somewhat  sudden  : 

But  he's  a  learned  man.     May  he  continue 

Vn.  ^12.  (k.h.viii.  6q 


/ict ///.]  KING  HEXRY  THE  EICHTH.  [u,m,//. 

Lon<^  in  his  highness*  favor,  and  do  justice 
F(;r  truth's  sake  and  his  conscience;  that  his  bones, 
When  he  has  run  his  course  and  sleeps  in  blessings. 
May  have  a  tomb  of  orphans'  tears  wept  on  'em  !  — 
Wiiat  more? 

Crom.         That  Cranmer  is  return'd  with  welcome, 
Instali'd  lord  archbishoj)  of  Canterbury. 

IVol.  That's  news  indeed. 

Crom.  Last,  that  the  Lady  Anne, 

Whom  the  king  hath  in  secrecy  long  married, 
This  day  was  view'd  in  open  as  his  queen, 
<ioing  to  chapel  ;  and  the  voice  is  now 
Only  about  her  coronation. 

\VoL   There  was  the  weight  that   pull'd  me  down.     O 
Cromwell, 
The  king  has  gone  beyond  me  :  all  my  glories 
In  that  one  woman  I  have  lost  for  ever  : 
No  sun  shall  ever  usher  forth  mine  honors, 
Or  gild  again  the  noble  troojis  that  waited 
Upon  my  smiles.     Go,  get  thee  from  me,  Cromwell ; 
I  am  a  poor  falTn  man,  unworthy  now 
To  be  thy  lord  and  master  :  seek  the  king; 
That  sun,  I  pray,  may  never  set  I  I've  told  him 
What  and  how  true  thou  art:  he  will  advance  thee; 
Some  little  memory  of  me  will  stir  him  — 
I  know  his  noble  nature — not  to  let 
Thy  hopeful  service  perish  too :  good  Cromwell, 
Neglect  him  not  ;  make  use  now,  and  jirovide 
For  thine  own  future  safety. 

Crom.  O  my  lord, 

Must  L  then,  leave  you  ?  must  1  needs  forego 
So  good,  so  noble,  and  so  true  a  master? 
Bear  witness,  all  that  have  not  hearts  of  iron. 
With  what  a  sorrow  Cromwell  leaves  his  lord. 
The  king  shall  have  my  service;  but  my  prayers 
For  ever  and  for  ever  shall  be  vours. 

U\)/.  Cromwell,  I  did  not  tliink  to  shed  a  tear 
In  allmv  miseries;  but  thou  hast  forc'd  me, 
Out  of  thy  honest  truth,  to  play  the  woman. 
Let's  dry  our  eyes:  and  thus  far  hear  me.  Cromwell; 
And  —  when  I  am  forgotten,  as  I  shall  be, 
And  sleep  in  dull  cold  mar!)le.  where  no  mention 
K.H.vin.  6i.]  VII.  313. 


Aci/y.]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  [Scent L 

Of  me  more  must  be  heard  of — say,  I  taught  thee. 

Say,  Wolsey  —  that  once  trod  the  ways  of  glory, 

And  sounded  all  the  depths  and  shoals  of  honor  — 

Found  thee  a  way,  out  of  his  wreck,  to  rise  in  ; 

A  sure  and  safe  one,  though  thy  master  miss'd  it. 

Mark  but  my  fall,  and  that  that  ruin'd  me. 

Cromwell,  I  charge  thee,  fling  away  ambition  : 

By  that  sin  fell  the  angels  ;  how  can  man,  ther, 

The  image  of  his  Maker,  hope  to  win  by't  ? 

Love  thyself  last ;  cherish  those  hearts  that  hate  thee ; 

Corruption  wins  not  more  than  honesty. 

Still  in  thy  right  hand  carry  gentle  peace, 

To  silence  envious  tongues.     Be  just,  and  fear  not : 

Let  all  the  ends  thou  aim'st  at  be  thy  country's, 

Thy  God's,  and  truth's  :  then  if  thou  fall'st,  O  Cromwell, 

Thou  fall'st  a  blessed  martyr.     Serve  the  king; 

And, —  prithee,  lead  me  in  : 

There  take  an  inventory  of  all  I  have, 

To  the  last  penny  ;  'tis  the  king's  :  my  robe. 

And  my  integrity  to  heaven,  is  all 

I  dare  now  call  mine  own.     O  Cromwell,  Cromwell ! 

Had  I  but  serv'd  my  God  with  half  the  zeal 

I  serv'd  my  king,  he  would  not  in  mine  age 

Have  left  me  naked  to  mine  enemies. 

Cro})i.  Good  sir,  have  patience. 

Wol.  So  I  have.     Farewell 

The  hopes  of  court !  my  hopes  in  heaven  do  dwell. 

ACT  IV. 

Scene  L    A  street  in  Westminster, 

Enter  two  Gentlemen,  meeting. 

First  Gent.   You're  well  met  once  again. 

Sec.  Gent.  So  are  you. 

First  Gent.  You  come    to    take   your  stand  here,  and 
behold 
The  Lady  Anne  pass  from  her  coronation  ? 

Sec.  Gent.  'Tis  all  my  business.     At  our  last  encounter 
The  Duke  of  Buckingham  came  from  his  trial. 

VII.  314.  [k.h.viii.  63, 


Act  //'.]  KING  HEXRV  THE  FIGHTlf.  {5./«</. 

First  Goii.  'Tis    vt-ry     true;    hut    that    time    offcr'd 
sorrow  ; 
This,  general  joy. 

Sec.  Gent.  'Tis  well  :  the  citizens, 

I'm  sure,  have  shown  at  full  their  royal  minds  — 
As,  let  'em  have  their  righls,  they're'  ever  forward  — 
In  celebration  of  this  day  with  shows, 
Pageants,  and  sights  of  honor. 

First  Gent.  Never  greater, 

Nor,  I'll  assure  you,  better  taken,  sir. 

Sec.    Gent.  Alay  I   be    bold  to  ask  what  that  contains. 
That  paper  in  your  hand  } 

First  Gent.  Yes  ;  'tis  the  list 

Of  those  that  claim  their  offices  this  day 
By  custom  of  the  coronation. 
The  Duke  of  Suffolk  is  the  fust,  and  claims 
To  be  high-steward  ;  next,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
He  to  be  earl  marshal  :  you  may  read  the  rest. 

Sec.  Gent.   I   thank    you,  sir:  had   1    not  known  those 
customs, 
I  should  have  been  beholding  to  your  pa|)er. 
But,  I  beseech  you,  what's  become  of  Katharine, 
The  princess  dowager  }  how  goes  her  business? 

First  Gent.  That  I  can  tell  you  too.    The  archbishop 
Of  Canterbury,  accompanied  with  other 
Learned  and  reverend  fathers  of  his  order. 
Held  a  late  court  at  Dunstable,  six  miles  off 
From  Ampthill,  where  the  princess  lay  ;  to  which 
She  was  often  cited  by  them,  but  ap|)ear'd  not: 
And,  to  be  short,  for  not  appearance  and 
The  king's  late  scruple,  by  the  main  assent 
Of  all  these  learned  men  she  was  divorc'd. 
And  the  late  marriage  made  of  none  effect : 
Since  which  she  was  remov'd  to  Kimbolton, 
Where  she  remains  now  sick. 

Sec.   Gent.  Alas,  good  ladv  !  — 

f  Trumpets. 
The  trumpets  sound  :  stand  close,  the  queen  is  coming. 


K.H.vm.  63  T  VTI.  315. 


Aa/y.}  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  {Scene  I 

THE   ORDER   OF   THE   PROCESSION. 
A  lively  flourish  of  trumpets.     Then  enter^ 

1.  Two  ]\xdgts. 

2.  Lord  Chancellor,  with  the  purse  and  mace  before  hi7n. 

3.  Choristers,  singing.  [Music. 

4.  Mayor  of  London,  bearifig  the  mace.      The?i  Garter, 

in  his  coat  of  arms,  and  o?i  his  head  a  gilt  copper 
crown. 

5.  Marquess   DORSET,  beari?ig  a  scepter  of  gold,  on  his 

head  a  demi-coronal  of  gold.  With  hijn,  the 
Earl  of  Surrey,  bearing  the  rod  of  silver  with 
the  dove,  crowned  with  an  earl's  coronet.  Col- 
lars of  SS. 

6.  Duke  of  Suffolk,  in  his  robe  of  estate,  his  coronet  on 

his  head,  bearing  a  long  white  wand,  as  high' 
steward.  With  him,  ///^"Duke  of  NORFOLK,  with 
the  rod  of  inarshalsJiip,  a  coronet  07i  his  head. 
Collars  of  SS. 

7.  A  canopy  borne  by  four  of  the  Cinque-ports  ;  under 

it,  the  Queen  in  her  robe ;  her  hair  richly 
adorned  with  pearl,  crowned.  On  each  side  of 
her,  the  Bishops  of  London  a7td  Winchester. 

8.  The  old  Duchess  of  Norfolk,  in  a  coronal  of  gold, 

wrought  with  flowers,  beari?ig  ///,?  Queen's  train. 

9.  Certain  Ladies  or  Countesses,  with  plain  circlets  of 

gold  without  flowers. 

A  royal  train,  believe  me. — These  I  know:  — 
Who's  that  that  bears  the  scepter.^ 

First  Gent.  Marquess  Dorset : 

And  that  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  with  the  rod. 

Sec.  Gent.   A  bold  brave  gentleman, —  That  should  be 
The  Duke  of  Suffolk  ? 

First  Gent.  'Tis  the  same, —  high-steward. 

Sec.  Gent.   And  tl>at  my  Lord  of  Norfolk.^ 

First    Gent.  Yes. 

Sec.  Gent,  {looking  on  the  Queen]    Heaven  bless  thee ! 
Thou  hast  the  sweetest  face  I  ever  look'd  on. — 
Sir,  as  I  have  a  soul,  she  is  an  angel ; 
Oui  king  has  all  the  Indies  in  his  arms, 

VIL  316.  (k.h.viii.  €4. 


A  ct  I  V.I  KING  HEXR  } '  TJ/E  EI  Gil  ///.  j.o  <  /.^  /. 

And  more  and  richer,  when  he  strains  thai  lady  ; 
I  cannot  blame  his  conscience. 

First  Gt-nf.  Tliey  that  bear 

The  cloth  of  honor  o'er  her  are  four  barons 
Of  the  Cinque-ports. 

Sec.  Gent.  Those  men  are  happy  ;    and  so  arc  all  are 
near  her. 
I  take  it,  she  that  carries  up  the  train 
Is  that  old  noble  lady,  Duchess  of  Norfolk. 

First  Gent.  It  is  ;  and  all  the  rest  are  countesses. 

Sec.  Gent.  Their  coronets  say  so.      These  are  stars  m- 
deed. 

First  Gent.  And  sometimes  falling  ones. 

Sec.  Gent.  No  more  of  that. 

[^Exit  procession,  ivith  a  great  Jlourish  of  trumpets. 

Enter  a  third  Gentleman, 

First  Gent.  God  save  you,  sir  i  where  have  you   btcn 
broiling  ? 

Third  Gent.   Among  the  crowd  i'  th'  abbey  ;    where  a 
finger 
Could  not  be  wedg'd  in  more :  I  am  stilled 
With  the  mere  rankness  of  their  joy. 

Sec.  Gent.  You  saw 

The  ceremony  ? 

Third  Gent.  That  I  did. 

First  Gent.  How  was  it  r 

Third  Gent.   Well  woi'th  the  seeing. 

Sec.  Gent.  Good  sir.  sjieak  it  to  iifi 

Third  Gent.  As  well  as  1  am  able.      The  rich  slicain 
Of  lords  and  ladies,  having  brought  the  queen 
To  a  prepar'd  i)lace  in  the  choir,  fell  off 
A  distance  from  her ;  while  her  grace  sat  down 
To  rest  awhile,  some  half  an  hour  or  so. 
In  a  rich  chair  of  state,  opposing  freely 
The  beauty  of  her  person  to  the  people. 
Believe  me.  sir.  she  is  the  goodliest  woman 
That  ever  lay  by  man  :  which  when  the  people 
Had  the  full'view  of,  such  a  noise  arose 
As  the  shrouds  make  at  sea  in  a  stiff  tempest. 
As  loud,  and  to  as  many  tunes  :  hats.  cK)aks. — 
Doublets,  I  think,—  flew  up ;  and  had  their  faces 

K.H.vni.  65.1  VII.  .^17. 


Act/y.]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  [Scene/- 

Eeen  loose,  this  day  they  had  been  lost.     Such  joy 
I  never  saw  before.     Great-bellied  women, 
That  had  not  half  a  week  to  go,  like  rams 
In  the  old  time  of  war,  would  shake  the  press. 
And  make  'em  reel  before  'em.     No  man  living 
Could  say,  "  This  is  my  wife,"  there  ;  all  were  woven 
So  strangely  in  one  piece. 

St'c.  Gent.  But  what  follow'd  ? 

Third  Gent.  At   length    her    grace    rose,    and    with 
modest  paces 
Came  to  the  ait'^r;  where  she  kneel'd,  and,  saintlike. 
Case  her  fair  eyes  to  heaven,  and  pray'd  devoutly: 
Then  rose  again    and  bow'd  her  to  the  people  : 
When  by  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury 
She  had  all  the  royal  makings  of  a  queen  ; 
As,  holy  oil,  Edward  Confessor's  crown, 
The  rod,  and  bird  of  peace,  and  all  such  emblems. 
Laid  nobly  on  her :  which  perform'd,  the  choir. 
With  all  the  choicest  music  of  the  kingdom. 
Together  sung  Te  Deiim.     So  she  parted, 
And  with  the  same  full  state  pac'd  back  again 
To  York-place,  where  the  feast  is  held. 

First  Gent.  Sir, 

You  must  no  more  call  it  York-place,  that's  past ; 
Tor,  since  the  cardinal  fell,  that  title's  lost : 
'Tis  now  the  king's,  and  call'd  Whitehall. 

Third  Gent.  I  know  it; 

But  'tis  so  lately  alter'd,  that  th'  old  name 
Is  fresh  about  me. 

Sec.  Gent.  What  two  reverend  bishops 

Where  those  that  went  on  each  side  of  the  queen  ? 

Third  Gent.  Stokesley  and  Gardiner ;  the  one  of  Winn 
Chester, 
Newly  preferr'd  from  the  king's  secretary; 
The  other,  London. 

Sec.  Gent.  He  of  Winchester 

Is  held  no  great  good  lover  of  th'  archbishop's, 
The  virtuous  Cranmer. 

Third  Gent.  All  the  land  knows  that : 

However,  yet  there's  no  great  breach  ;  when't  comes, 
Cranmer  will  find  a  friend  will  not  shrink  from  him. 

^ec.  Gent.  Who  may  that  be,  I  pray  you  ? 

VII.  318.  [k.h.viii.  66 


A  ct  1  r.]  KING  HENR  J "  THE  EUJI TJ/.  [S<4H4  It. 

Third  Gent.  Tlujiiias  Cromwell  ; 

A  man  in  much  esteem  with  the  king,  and  truly 
A  wortliy  friend.     The  king 
Has  made  him  master  o'  the  jewel-house, 
And  one,  already,  of  the  privy-council. 

Sec.  Gent.  He  will  deserve  more. 

Third  Gent.  Yes,  without  all  doubt.- 

Come,  gentlemen,  ye  shall  go  my  wav,  which 
Is  to  the  court,  and  there  ye  shall  be 'my  guests  • 
Something  I  can  command.     As  I  walk  thither, 
I'll  tell  ye  more. 

Both.  You  may  command  us,  sir.         \E.xeunt. 

Scene  H.  Kimbolton. 

Enter  Kathari1:JE,  do7i'ao-er,  sick;   led  between  GRIF- 
FITH aiid  Patience. 

Grif.  How  does  your  grace  } 

Ka'th.  O  Griffith,  sick  to  death! 

My  legs,  like  loaden  branches,  bow  to  the  earth, 
Willing  to  leave  their  burden.     Reach  a  chair  :  — 
So, —  now,  methinks,  I  feel  a  little  ease. 
Didst  thou  not  tell  me,  Griffilh.  as  thou  ledd'st  me. 
That  the  great  child  of  honor.  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
Was  dead  .'* 

Grif.  Yes,  madam  ;  but  I  think  your  grace, 
Out  of  the  pain  you  suffer'd.  gave  no  ear  to't. 

Kath.  Prithee,  good  Griflilh.  tell  me  how  he  died  : 
If  well,  he  stepp'd  before  me,  hapi)ily, 
For  my  example. 

Grif.  Well,  the  voice  goes,  madam  : 

For  after  the  stout  Earl  Northumberland 
Arrested  him  at  York,  and  brought  him  forward  — 
As  a  man  sorely  tainted —  to  his  answer. 
He  fell  sick  suddenly,  and  grew  so  ill 
He  could  not  sit  his  mule. 

Kath.  Alas,  poor  man. 

Grif.  At  last,  with  easy  roads,  he  canu-  to  Leicesiei;. 
Lodg'd  in  the  abbey,  where  the  reverend  abbot. 
With  all  his  covent,  honorably  receiv'd  him  : 
To  whom  he  gave  these  words.—  "  O  father  abbot. 
An  old  man,  broken  with  the  storms  of  state, 

K.H.VIII.67.]  VII.  3W. 


Hc^/r.]  KIXG  HEXRY  THE  EIGHTH.      '  iScene  !i. 

Is  come  to  lay  his  weary  bones  among  ye  ; 

Give  him  a  Httle  earth  for  charity  !  " 

•So  went  to  bed  ;  where  eagerly  his  sickness 

Pursu'd  him  still  :  and,  three  nights  after  this, 

After  the  hour  of  eight, —  which  he  himself 

Foretold  should  be  his  last, —  full  of  repentance. 

Continual  meditations,  tears,  and  sorrows, 

He  gave  his  honors  to  the  world  again, 

His  blessed  part  to  heaven,  and  slept  in  peace. 

Kath.  So  may  he  rest ;  his  faults  lie  gently  on  him! 
Yet  thus  far,  Griffith,  give  me  leave  to  speak  him, 
And  yet  with  charity.     He  was  a  man 
Of  an  unbounded  stomach,  ever  ranking 
Himself  with  princes  ;  one  that  by  suggestion 
Tith'd  all  the  kingdom  :  simony  was  fair-play, 
His  own  opinion  was  his  law:  i'  the  presence 
He  would  say  untruths  ;  and  be  ever  double 
Both  in  his  words  and  meaning :  he  was  never. 
But  where  he  meant  to  ruin,  pitiful : 
His  promises  were,  as  he  then  was,  mighty ; 
But  his  performance,  as  he  is  now,  nothing  : 
Of  his  own  body  he  ^^■as  ill,  and  gave 
The  clergy  ill  example. 

Grif.  Noble  madam. 

Men's  evil  manners  live  in  brass  ;  their  virtues 
We  write  in  w^ater.     May  it  please  your  highness 
To  hear  me  speak  his  good  now  .'* 

Kath,     ^  ^  Yes,  good  Griffith  ; 

I  were  malicious  else. 

Grif.  This  cardinal, 

Though  from  an  humble  stock,  undoubtedly 
Was  fashion'd  to  much  honor  from  his  cradle. 
He  was  a  scholar,  and  a  ripe  and  good  one ; 
Exceeding  wise,  fair-spoken,  and  persuading: 
Lofty  and  sour  to  them  that  lov'd  him  not ; 
But  to  those  men  that  sought  him  sweet  as  summer 
And  though  he  were  unsatisfied  in  getting, — 
Which  was  a  sin, —  yet  in  bestowing,  madam, 
He  was  most  princely  :  ever  witness  for  him 
Those  twins  of  learning  that  he  rais'd  in  you, 
Ipswich  and  Oxford  !  one  of  which  fell  with  him. 
Unwilling  to  outlive  the  good  that  did  it; 

VII.  320.  [K.H.VI11.  68 


Aci /K]  KING  HEXRY  THE  EICHTH.  \S<*nt  H, 

The  Other,  though  unfinish'd,  yet  so  famous. 

So  excellent  in  art,  and  still  so  risiM<^, 

That  Christendom  shall  ever  speak  his  virtue. 

His  overthrow  heap'd  hai)piness  uj^on  him  ; 

For  then,  and  not  till  then,  he  felt  himself, 

And  found  the  blessedness  of  being  little: 

And,  to  add  greater  honors  to  his  age 

Than  man  could  give  him,  he  died  fearing  God. 

Kath.   After  my  death  I  wish  no  other  herald. 
No  other  speaker  of  my  living  actions. 
To  keep  mine  honor  from  corruption. 
But  such  an  honest  chronicler  as  Griffith. 
Whom  I  most  hated  living,  thou  hast  made  me. 
With  thy  religious  truth  and  modesty, 
Now  in  his  ashes  honor  :  peace  be  with  him  !  — 
Patience,  be  near  me  still  ;  and  set  me  lower : 
I  have  not  long  to  trouble  thee. —  Good  Griffith, 
Cause  the  musicians  play  me  that  sad  note 
I  nam'd  my  knell,  whilst  I  sit  meditating 
On  that  celestial  harmony  I  go  to.    \Sad  and  solemn  music. 

Grif.  She  is  asleep  :  good  wench,  let's  sit  down  quiet, 
Tor  fear  we  wake  her  : —  softly,  gentle  Patience. 

The  vision.  Enter,  solemnly  trippim^  one  after 
another,  six  personages  elad  in  i^'hite  robes,  ivear- 
ing  on  their  heads  garlands  of  bays,  and  golden 
visards  on  their  faees  ;  branehes  of  bays  or  palm  in 
their  hands.  They  first  congee  unto  her,  then  dance  ; 
and,  at  certain  cha?iges,  the  first  two  hold  a  spare 
garland  over  her  head ;  at  ivhieh  the  other  four 
make  reverent  courtesies  ;  then  the  tii'o  that  held  the 
garland  deliver  the  same  to  the  other  next  tico,  who 
observe  the  same  order  in  their  changes,  and  hold- 
ing the  garland  over  her  head:  which  done,  they 
deliver  the  same  garland  to  the  last  two,  "who  like- 
wise  observe  the  same  order  ;  at  which  {iis  it  were 
by  inspiration)  she  makes  in  her  sleep  signs  of  /r- 
joici7ig,  and  holdeth  up  her  hands  to  heaven :  anti 
so  in  their  dancing  they  vanish,  carrying  the  gar* 
lands  with  them.  The  music  continues. 
Kath.  Spirits  of  peace,  where  are  ye.>  are  ye  all  gone. 

And  leave  me  here  in  wretchedness  behind  ye? 

K.H.V111.69.]  VII.  3««. 


act/y.}  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  \,Scent ii, 

Grif\  Madam,  we're  here. 

Kath.  It  is  not  you  I  call  for  : 

Saw  ye  none  enter  since  I  slept  ? 

Grif.  None,  madam. 

Kath,  No  }  Saw  you  not,  even  now,  a  blessed  troop 
Invite  me  to  a  banquet ;  whose  bright  faces 
Cast  thousand  beams  upon  me,  like  the  sun  ? 
They  promis'd  me  eternal  happiness  ; 
And  brought  me  garlands,  Griffith,  which  I  feel 
I  am  not  worthy  yet  to  wear :  I  shall. 
Assuredly. 

Grif.   I  am  most  joyful,  madam,  such  good  dreams 
Possess  your  fancy. 

Kath.  Bid  the  music  leave; 
They're  harsh  and  heavy  to  me.  \Miisic  ce^^ses. 

Pat.  [aside  to  G)'if.'\  Do  you  note 

How  much  her  grace  is  alter'd  on  the  sudden  } 
How  long  her  face  is  drawn  ?  how  pale  she  looks, 
And  of  an  earthy  color  }     Mark  her  eyes  ! 

Grif.   [aside  to  Pat. ^  She's  going,  wench  :  pray,  pray. 

Pat.  [aside  to  Grzf.\  Heaven  comfort  her! 

Efiter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  An't  like  your  grace, — 

Kath.  You  are  a  saucy  fellow  : 

Deserve  we  no  more  reverence  ? 

Grif.  You're  to  blame. 

Knowing  she  will  not  lose  her  wonted  greatness. 
To  use  so  rude  behavior:  go  to,  kneel. 

Mess.   I  humbly  do  entreat  your  highness'  pardon  ; 
Vl\  haste  made  me  unmannerly.     There's  staying 
A  gentleman,  sent  from  the  king,  to  see  you. 

Kath.  Admit  him  entrance,  Griffith  :  but  this  fellow 
Let  me  ne'er  see  again.  [Exeunt  Griffith  and Messejtger, 

Re-enter  GRIFFITH  luith  CapuCIUS. 

If  my  sight  fail  not, 
You  should  be  lord  ambassador  from  th'  emperor. 
My  royal  nephew,  and  your  name  Capucius. 
Cap.  Madam,  the  same, —  your  servant. 
Kath.  O  my  lord, 

The  times  and  titles  now  are  alter'd  strangely 

VII.  322-  [K.H.V111.  7a 


Act  Ik'.}  KING  HEXRY  THE  EIGHTH.  I'Urmr/i, 

With  me  since  fiibt  you  knew  nie.     liut,  I  [K'dv  yuu. 
What  is  your  pleasure  with  me? 

>''/•   .  Xc^hlclady, 

First,  nnne  own  service  to  your  grace  ;  the  next. 
The  king's  request  that  I  would  visit  you  ; 
Who  grieves  much  for  your  weakness,  and  by  nie 
Sends  you  his  princely  commendations, 
An(l  heartily  entreats  you  take  good  comfort. 

A'a///.  O  my  good  lord,  that  comfort  comes  loo  *atc; 
'Tis  like  a  pardon  after  execution  : 
That  gentle  physic,  given  in  time,  had  cur'd  me ; 
But  now  I'm  past  all  comforts  here,  but  prayers. 
How  does  his  highness  ? 

Cap,  Madam,  in  good  health. 

Kath.  So  may  he  ever  do  !  and  ever  flourish. 
When  I  shall  dwell  with  worms,  and  my  poor  name 
Banish'd  the  kingdom!  —  Patience,  is  that  letter, 
I  caus'd  you  write,  yet  sent  away  ? 

Pat.  No,  madam. 

\Givnii![  it  to  Katharine, 

Kath.  Sir,  I  most  humbly  pray  you  to  deliver 
This  to  my  lord  the  king;  — 

Cap.  Most  willing,  madam. 

Kath.   In  which  I  have  commended  to  his  goodness 
The  model  of  our  chaste  loves,  his  young  daughter, — 
The  dews  of  heaven  fall  thick  in  blessings  on  her  !  — 
Beseeching  him  to  give  her  virtuous  breeding;  — 
She's  young,  and  of  a  noble  modest  nature  ; 
I  hope  she  will  deserve  well ; —  and  a  little 
To  love  her  for  her  mother's  sake,  that  lov'd  him. 
Heaven  knows  how  dearly.     My  next  j)oor  j)etitioa 
Is.  that  his  noble  grace  would  have  some  pity 
Upon  my  wretched  women,  that  so  long 
Have  follow'd  both  my  fortunes  faithfully: 
Of  which  there  is  not  one,  I  dare  avow, — 
And  now  I  should  not  lie, —  but  will  desrrvc. 
For  virtue  and  true  beauty  of  the  soul. 
For  honesty  and  decent  carriage, 
A  right  good  husband,  let  him  be  a  nolile  ; 
And,  sure,  those  men  are  hapj)y  that  shall  have  'cm. 
The  last  is,  for  my  men  ;  —  they  are  the  poorest. 
But  poverty  could  never  draw  'cm  from  me  ;  — 

«.H.vin.  71.]  VII.  3J3. 


.<c/  y.1  KING  HEXRV  THE  EIGHTH,  {Scent  k 

That  they  may  have  their  wages  duly  paid  *em. 

And  something  over,  to  remember  me  by : 

If  heaven  had  pleas'd  t'  have  given  me  longer  life 

And  able  means,  we  had  not  parted  thus. 

These  are  the  whole  contents  :  —  and,  good  my  lord. 

By  that  you  love  the  dearest  in  this  world, 

As  you  wish  Christian  peace  to  souls  departed, 

Stand  these  poor  people's  friend,  and  urge  the  king 

To  do  me  this  last  right. 

Cap.  By  heaven,  I  will, 

Or  let  me  lose  the  fashion  of  a  man  ! 

Katli.   I  thank  you,  honest  lord.     Remember  me 
In  all  humility  unto  his  highness: 
Say  his  long  trouble  now  is  passing 
Out  of  this  world  ;  tell  him,  in  death  I  bless'd  him. 
For  so  I  will. —  Mine  eyes  grow  dim. —  Farewell, 
My  lord. —  Griffith,  farewell. —  Nay,  Patience, 
You  must  not  leave  me  yet  :  I  must  to  bed  ; 
Call  in  more  women. —  When  I'm  dead,  good  wench, 
Let  me  be  us'd  with  honor  :  strew  me  over 
With  maiden  flowers,  that  all  the  world  may  know 
I  was  a  chaste  wife  to  ni)'  grave :  embalm  me. 
Then  lay  me  forth  ;  although  unqueen'd,  yet  like 
A  queen,  and  daughter  to  a  king,  inter  me. 
I  can  no  more.  \Exetint,  leading  Kat/iarz7te, 

ACT  V. 

Scene  I.     Lojidon,     A  gallery  i7i  the  palace. 

Enter  GARDINER,  bishop  of  Winchester,  a  Page  with  a 
torch  before  him. 

Card,  It's  one  o'clock,  boy,  is't  not.^ 

Boy,  It  hath  struck. 

Card.  These  should  be  hours  for  necessities. 
Not  for  delights  ;  times  to  repair  our  nature 
With  comforting  repose,  and  not  for  us 
To  waste  these  times. 

E?iter  Sir  Thomas  Lovell. 
Whither  so  late  ? 


Good  hour  of  night,  Sir  Thomas? 


YII.  324.  tK.H.vin.  73. 


^  :t  I '.]  h'/XG  NKXR  J '  THE  IIHIH  I  If  [5.  /«#  /. 

Lov.  Came  you  from  the  king,  my  lord  ? 

Card.   I  did,  Sir  Thomas;  ami  Icfl  him  at  j)rimero 
With  the  Duke  of  Suffolk. 

Lov.  I  must  lo  him  loo, 

Before  he  go  to  bed.     I'll  take  my  k-avr. 

Card.  Not  yet,  Sir  Thomas  I, ovcll.  What'slhe  matter? 
It  seems  you  are  in  haste  :  an  if  there  be 
No  great  offense  lielongs  to't,  give  )()ur  friend 
Some  touch  of  your  kite  business  :  affairs  that  walk  — 
As  they  say  spirits  do — at  midnight  have 
In  them  a  wilder  nature  than  the  business 
That  seeks  disi)atch  by  day. 

Lov.  '    My  lord,  I  love  you  ; 

And  durst  commend  a  secret  to  your  ear 
Much  weightier  than  this  work.     Tin-  (juecn's  in  labor. 
They  say,  in  great  extremity;  and  fear'd 
She'll  with  the  labor  ^^\(\. 

Card.  The  fruit  she  goes  w  iih 

I  pray  for  heartily,  that  it  may  find 
Good  time,  and  live  :  but  for  the  stock,  Sir  Thomas, 
I  wish  it  grubb'd  up  now. 

Lov.  Methinks  I  could 

Cry  the  anien  ;  and  yet  my  conscience  says 
She's  a  good  creature,  and,  sweet  lady,  does 
Deserve  our  better  wishes. 

Card.  But,  sir,  sir, — 

Hear  me.  Sir  Thomas  :  you're  a  gentleman 
Of  mine  own  way  ;  I  know  you  wise,  religious; 
And,  let  me  tell  you,  it  will  neer  be  well,— 
'Twill  not.  Sir  Thomas  Lovell.  take't  of  me, — 
Till  Cranmer,  Cromwell,  her  two  hands,  and  she, 
Sleep  in  their  graves. 

J^07>.  Now.  sir,  you  speak  of  two 

The  most  remark'd  i"  the  kmgtlo'm.     As  for  Crom^vll.- 
Beside  that  of  the  jewel-houst-,  he"s  made  masttM" 
O'  the  rolls,  and  the  kings  secretary;  fuitlur,  sir. 
Stands  in  the  gap  and  trade  of  more  preferments, 
With  which  the  time  will  load  him.     Th"  archbishop 
Is  the  king's  hand  and  tongue;  and  who  dare  speak 
One  syllable  against  him  } 

Gard.  Ves.  yes.  Sir  Thomas. 

There  are  that  dare;  and  I  myself  liavc  vcnlurd 
c.H.vni.73]  VII.  335. 


Ac^  r.^  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  [Scene i. 

To  speak  my  mind  of  him:  and,  indeed,  this  day  — 

Sir,  I  may  tell  it  you,  I  think —  I  have 

Incens'd  the  lords  o'  the  council  that  he  is  — 

For  so  I  know  he  is,  they  know  he  is  — 

A  most  arch  heretic,  a  pestilence 

That  does  infect  the  land :  with  which  they  mov'd. 

Have  broken  with  the  king- ;  who  hath  so  far 

Given  ear  to  our  complaint, —  of  his  great  grace 

And  princely  care,  foreseeing-  those  fell  mischiefs 

Our  reasons  laid  before  him, —  'hath  commanded 

To-morrow  morning  to  the  council-board 

He  be  convented.     He's  a  rank  weed.  Sir  Thomas, 

And  we  must  root  him  out.     From  your  affairs 

I  hinder  you  too  long:  good  night,  Sir  Thomas. 

Lov,  ]Many  good  nights,  my   lord :  I  rest  your  servant. 
YExeuiit  Gardiner  and  Page. 

As  LOVELL  IS goi}ig  out,  enter  the  King  and  the  Duke 
of  Suffolk. 

K.  Hefi.  Charles,  I  will  play  no  more  to-night ; 
I\Iy  mind's  not  on't ;  you  are  too  hard  for  me. 

Siif.   Sir,  I  did  never  win  of  you  before, 

K.  Hen.  But  little,  Charles  ;  . 
Nor  shall  not,  when  my  fancy's  on  my  play, — 
Now,  Lovell,  from  the  queen  what  is  the  news  ? 

Lov.   I  could  not  personally  deliver  to  her 
What  you  commanded  me,  but  by  her  woman 
I  sent  your  message  ;  who  return'd  her  thanks 
In  the  great'st  humbleness,  and  desir'd  your  highness 
Most  heartily  to  pray  for  her, 

A'.  Hen.  What  say'st  thou,  ha.^ 

To  pray  for  her.^  what,  is  she  crying  out? 

Lov.   So  said  her  woman  ;  and  that  her  sufferance  made 
Almost  each  pang  a  death. 

K,  Hen.  Alas,  good  lady  ! 

Suf.  God  safely  quit  her  of  her  burden,  and 
With  gentle  travail,  to  the  gladding  of 
Your  highness  with  an  heir! 

K.  Hen.  'Tis  midnight.  Charles; 

Prithee,  to  bed  ;  and  in  thy  prayers  remember 
Th'  estate  of  my  poor  queen.     Leave  me  alone; 

VII.  326.  [k.h.viii.  74. 


Act  f-.l  KING  HENRY  THE  EIC.HTH.  \Sc*nf  T 

For  I  must  think  of  that  which  company 
Would  not  be  friendly  to. 

Siif.  I  wish  your  hij^hness 

A  quiet  night;  and  my  good  mis'tresb  will 
Remember  in  my  prayers. 

K.  Hen,  Charles,  good  night.  \Exit  Suffolk, 

Enter  Sir  Anthony  Df.nnv. 

Well,  sir,  what  follows  ? 

Den.  Sir,  I  have  brought  my  lord  the  drchbishop, 
As  vou  commanded  me. 

k.  Hen.  Ha  !  Canterbur)-  ? 

De7i.  Ay,  my  good  lord. 

K.  Hen.  'Tis  true :  where  is  he,  Denny  } 

Den.  He  attends  your  highness'  pleasure. 

K,  Hen.  Bring  him  to  us. 

{Exit  Denny. 

Lov,   {aside].   This   is   about   that   which   the   bishop 
spake : 
I  am  happily  come  hither. 

Re-enter  Dennv,  lui't/i  Cr.\nmi:r. 

K.  Hen.    Avoid    the  gallery.    {Lovell  seenis   to  sta\\[ 
Ha!  I  have  said.     Begone. 
What !  [Exeunt  Lo7utl  and  Denny, 

Cran.  [aside]    I    am    fearful :  —  wherefore  frowns  he 
thus? 
*Tis  his  aspect  of  terror.     All's  not  well. 

K.  Hen.  How  now,  my  lord  !  )ou  do  desire  to  know 
Wherefore  I  sent  for  you. 

Cran.  [kneeling]  It  is  my  duty 

T'  attend  your  highness'  pleasure. 

K.  Hen.  ^''-^y  )*'"-  •'^rise. 

My  good  and  gracious  Lord  of  Canterbury.    \Cran.  rises. 
Come,  you  and  I  must  walk  a  turn  together  ; 
I've  news  to  tell  you:  come.  come,  give  me  your  hand. 
Ah,  my  good  lord,  I  grieve  at  what  I  speak. 
And  am  right  sorry  to  rejH-at  what  follows: 
I  have,  and  most  unwillingly,  of  late 
Heard  many  grievous,  I  do  sav.  my  lord. 
Grievous  complaints  of  you;  which,  being  consider  d. 
Have  mov'd  us  and  our  council,  that  you  shall 

ICH.VIIl.  75.)  VII.  337. 


Aci  P^."]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  [Scene  A 

This  morning  come  before  us  ;  where,  I  know, 
You  cannot  with  such  freedom  purge  yourself. 
But  that,  till  further  trial  in  those  charges 
Which  will  require  your  answer,  you  must  take 
Your  patience  to  you,  and  be  well  contented. 
To  make  your  house  our  Tower :  you  a  brother  of  us. 
It  fits  we  thus  proceed,  or  else  no  witness 
Would  come  against  you. 

Cran.  [^/wt'/i'/io^]  I  humbly  thank  your  highness  ; 

And  am  right  glad  to  catch  this  good  occasion 
Most  throughly  to  be  winnow'd,  where  my  chaff 
And  corn  shall  f\y  asunder :  for,  I  know, 
There's  none  stands  under  more  calumnious  tongues 
Than  I  myself,  poor  man. 

/C.  Hen.  Stand  up,  good  Canterbury; 

Thy  truth  and  thy  integrity  is  rooted 
In  us,  thy  friend  :  give  me  thy  hand,  stand  up  : 
Prithee,  let's  walk.     Now,  by  my  halidom,.    \Cra7i.  rises* 
What  manner  of  man  are  you  !     Aly  lord,  I  look'd 
You  would  have  given  me  your  petition,  that 
I  should  have  ta'en  some  pains  to  bring  together 
Yourself  and  your  accusers ;  and  t'  have  heard  you, 
Without  indurance,  further. 

Cran.  Most  dread  liege,. 

The  good  I  stand  on  is  my  truth  and  honesty ; 
If  they  shall  fail,  I,  with  mine  enemies. 
Will  triumph  o'er  my  person  ;  which  I  weigh  not, 
Being  of  those  virtues  vacant.     I  fear  nothing 
What  can  be  said  against  me. 

K.  Hen.  Know  you  not 

How  your  state  stands  i'  the  world,  with  the  whole  world? 
Your  enemies  are  many,  and  not  small ;  their  practices 
Must  bear  the  same  proportion  ;  and  not  ever 
The  justice  and  the  truth  o'  the  question  carries 
The  due  o'  the  verdict  with  it  :  at  what  ease 
Might  corrupt  minds  procure  knaves  as  corrupt 
To  swear  against  you  !  such  things  have  been  done. 
You're  potently  oppos'd  ;  and  with  a  malice 
Of  as  great  size.     Ween  you  of  better  luck, 
I  mean,  in  perjur'd  witness',  than  your  master. 
Whose  minister  you  are,  whiles  here  he  liv'd 
Upon  this  naughty  earth  ?     Go  to,  go  to  ; 

VII.  32S.  [iCH.VUI.  7& 


Act  r.]  A'/NC  //AAA)'  ///A-  EICIITII.  \Stem4 1» 

Vou  take  a  prccij)ic:c  for  luj  kap  of  danger. 
And  woo  your  own  destruction. 

Cran.  (jod  and  your  majesty 

Protect  mine  innocence,  or  1  fall  into 
Tiie  trap  is  laid  for  nie ! 

A'.  Ifcn.  He  of  j^ood  cheer; 

'I'iiey  shall  no  more  pre\ail  than  we  jjive  way  to. 
Keep  comfort  to  you;  and  this  morning;  sec 
Vou  do  appear  before  them.     If  they  shall  chance, 
\\\  charj^ing  you  with  matters,  to  commit  you, 
'I'he  best  persuasions  to  the  contrary 
Fail  not  to  use,  and  with  what  vehemency 
Th'  occasion  shall  instruct  you:  if  entreaties 
Will  rentier  you  no  remedy,  this  ring  L^^^'  '"^'  '  "KK' 

Deliver  them,  and  your  appeal  to  us 

There  make  before  them. —  Look,  the  j^ood  man  weeps  ! 
He's  honest,  on  mine  lionor.     (iod's  bless'd  mother  I 
I  swear  he  is  true-hearted  ;  and  a  soul 
None  better  in  my  kingdom. —  Get  you  gone. 
And   do  as  I    have  bitl    you.   [A'.r//  Cnuiwcr,]  He  has 

strangled 
His  language  in  his  tears. 

Enter  old  Lady. 

Gent.  \iuithi)i\  Come  back  :  what  mean  you  } 

Old  L.  I'll  not  come  back;  the  tidings  that  I  bring 
Will  make  my  boldness  manners.—  Now.  good  angels 
Fly  o'er  thy  royal  head,  and  shade  thy  j)erson 
Under  their  blessed  wings  1 

A'.  }lc)i.  Now.  by  iliy  looks 

I  guess  thy  message.     Is  the  queen  deliver'd  ? 
Say  ay ;  and  of  a  boy. 

Old  L.  Ay.  ay,  my  liege; 

And  of  a  lovely  boy  :  the  Cod  of  heaven 
Both  now  and  ever  bless  her  I  —  'tis  a  girl.— 
Promises  boys  hereafter.     Sir,  your  queen 
Desires  your  visitation,  and  to  be 
Acquainted  with  this  stranger:  "lis  as  like  you 
As  cherry  is  to  cherry. 

A'.  Hen.  Lovell  1 

K.H.vm.  77.]  ^  "•  J** 


A  a  K}  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  [Scene  IT, 

Re-enter  Lovell. 

Lov.  Sir? 

K.  He?t.  Give  her  an  hundred  marks.  I'll  to  the  queen, 

{Exit. 

Old  L.  An  hundred  marks  !  By  this  light,  I'll  ha'  more. 
An  ordinary  groom  is  for  such  payment. 
I  will  have  more,  or  scold  it  out  of  him. 
Said  I  for  this,  the  girl  was  like  to  him  ? 
I  will  have  more,  or  else  unsay't ;  and  now. 
While  it  is  hot,  I'll  put  it  to  the  issue.  {Exeunt, 

Scene  II.  Lobby  before  the  council-chaviber. 

Enter  Cranmer;  Servants,  Door-keeper,  &^c.,  attend* 
ing, 

Cran.  I  hope  I'm  not  too  late  ;  and  yet  the  gentleman, 
f  hat  was  sent  to  me  from  the  council,  pray'd  me 
f  o  make  great  haste. — All  fast }  what  means  this  ?  —  Ho  ? 
Who  waits  there  "i  —  Sure,  you  know  me  ? 

D.  Keep.  Yes,  my  lord  ; 

But  yet  I  cannot  help  you. 

Cran.  Why.^ 

D.  Keep.   Your  grace  must  wait  till  you  be  call'd  for. 

Enter  Doctor  Butts. 

Cran.  So. 

Butts.  [aside'\  This  is  a  piece  of  malice.     I  am  glad 
I  came  this  way  so  happily  :  the  king 
Shall  understand  it  presently.  {Exit, 

Cran.  [aside']  'Tis  Butts, 

The  king's  physician  :  as  he  pass'd  along, 
How  earnestly  he  cast  his  eyes  upon  me  ! 
Pray  heaven,  he  sound  not  my  disgrace  !     For  certain. 
This  is  of  purpose  laid  by  some  that  hate  me  — 
God  turn  their  hearts  !    I  never  sought  their  malice  — 
To  quench  mine  honor :  they  would  shame  to  make  me 
Wait  else  at  door,  a  fellow-counselor. 
Among  boys,  grooms,  and  lackeys.     But  their  pleasures 
Must  be  fulfill'd,  and  I  attend  with  patience. 

The  King  and  BUTTS   appear  at  a  window  above. 
Butts,  I'll  show  your  grace  the  strangest  sight  — 

VII.  330.  [k.h.viii.  y8t 


Act  /'.]  KINC  HFXRV  rnr  F.  ran  Til.  :  .  .*,  //. 

A'.  ITcn.  What's  that.  Butu' 

Butts.  I  think  your  hij^hncss  saw  this  many  a  day. 

K.  Hen.   Body  o'  me,  where  is  it  ? 

Butts.  There,  my  lord  ; 

The  hij^h  promotion  of  his  j^race  of  Canterhun*' ; 
Who  holds  his  state  at  door,  'mongst  pursuivants. 
Pages,  and  footboys. 

K.  lieu.  Ha  !  'tis  he,  indeed  : 

Is  this  the  honor  they  do  one  another? 
'Tis  well  there's  one  above  'em  yet.     I  had  thought 
They  had  parted  so  much  lionesty  among  'em  — 
At  least,  good  manners  —  as  not  thus  to  suffer 
A  man  of  his  place,  and  so  near  our  favor. 
To  dance  attendance  on  their  lordships'  pleasures. 
And  at  the  door  too,  like  a  post  with  packets. 
By  holy  Mar)-,  Butts,  there's  knaver\' : 
Let  'em  alone,  and  draw  the  curtain  close: 
We  shall  hear  more  anon.  ((■/.•»/''"  Jr.t-rr. 

T  H  E   CO  U  X C I L-C  H  A  M  I !  I  K . 
Enter  the  Lord   Chancellor,  the   Duke  of  Sl  l  KuLk. //i/ 
Duke  of  Norfolk,  Karl  of  SlkkKV,  Lord  Chaml)cr- 
lain,  Gardinkr,  and  Cromwell.      The  Chancellor 
places  himself  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table  on  Ike 
left  hand :  a  seat  benij^  left  void  ahnr  him.  as  far 
the   Archbishop    of   CanTKRHURV.      The    rest  seat 
themselves  in   order  on  each  side.     Cro.Mwm  »     •' 
the  lo7ver  end,  as  secretary. 
Chan.  Speak  to  the  business,  master  secretar>  : 
Why  are  we  met  in  council  ? 

Crom.  Please  your  honors. 

The  chief  cause  concerns  his  grace  of  Canterbury. 
Card.  Has  he  had  knowledge  of  it  ? 
Crom.  Yes. 

j\lor.  Who  waits  ihertr 

D.  Keep.  Without,  mv  noble  lords  } 
Card.  Yes. 

D.  Keep.  ^^y  ''^rd  Arrhhishop  ; 

And  has  done  half  an  hour,  to  know  your  pirnsurrs. 
Chan.  Let  him  come  in. 
D  Keep.  Your  grace  may  enter  now. 

[Cranmer  approaches  tht  coumcil-iahU. 

K.H.VIII.  79.]  VIL   331. 


na  r.]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH,  \Scene O. 

Chan.  My  good  lord  archbishop,  I'm  very  sorry 
To  sit  here  at  this  present,  and  behold 
That  chair  stand  empty  :  but  we  all  are  men, 
In  our  own  natures  frail,  and  capable 
Of  our  flesh  ;  few  are  angels  :  out  of  which  frailty 
And  want  of  wisdom,  you,  that  best  should  teach  us, 
Have  misdemean'd  yourself,  and  not  a  little, 
Toward  the  king  first,  then  his  laws,  in  filling 
The  whole  realm,  by  your  teaching  and  your  chaplains,^ 
For  so  we  are  inform'd, —  with  new  opinions, 
Divers  and  dangerous  ;  which  are  heresies, 
And,  not  reform'd,  may  prove  pernicious. 

Gard.  Which  reformation  must  be  sudden  too. 
My  noble  lords  ;  for  those  that  tame  wild  horses 
Pace  'em  not  in  their  hands  to  make  'em  gentle. 
But  stop  their  mouths  with  stubborn  bits,  and  spur  'enit 
Till  they  obey  the  manage.     If  we  suffer  — 
Out  of  our  easiness,  and  childish  pity 
To  one  man's  honor — this  contagious  sickness, 
-Farewell  all  physic  :  and  what  follows  then  ? 
Commotions,  uproars,  with  a  general  taint 
Of  the  whole  state  :  as,  of  late  days,  our  neighbors, 
The  upper  Germany,  can  dearly  witness. 
Yet  freshly  pitied  in  our  memories. 

Cran.  My  good  lords,  hitherto,  in  all  the  progress 
Both  of  my'life  and  office,  I  have  labor'd. 
And  with  no  little  study,  that  my  teaching 
And  the  strong  course  of  my  authority 
Might  go  one  way,  and  safely  ;  and  the  end 
Was  ever,  to  do  well  :  nor  is  there  living  — 
I  speak  it  with  a  single  heart,  my  lords  — 
A  man  that  more  detests,  more  stirs  against, 
Both  in  his  private  conscience  and  his  place, 
Defacers  of  tlie  public  peace,  than  I  do. 
Pray  heaven,  the  king  may  never  find  a  heart 
With  less  allegiance  in  it !     Men  that  make 
Envy  and  crooked  malice  nourishment 
Dare  bite  the  best.     I  do  beseech  your  lordships 
That,  in  this  case  of  justice,  my  accusers. 
Be  what  they  will,  may  stand  forth  face  to  face. 
And  freely  urge  against  me. 

Suf,  Nay,  my  lord, 

VI 


Act  /•'.]  A'/.\'(  /    //  /.    N  A  )       ,  //  /      /•  H.li  i  H.  \^'  .tmt  11. 

That  cannot  be  :  you  arr  a  counselor, 

And,  "by  iliat  virtue,  no  man  dare  accuse  you. 

Gard.  My  lord,  because  w  e'\  e  business  of  more  mf»mcnl» 
We  will  be  short  with  you.     'Tis  his  highness*  pleasure. 
And  our  consent,  for  belter  trial  of  you. 
From  hence  you  be  committed  to  the  Tower; 
Where,  bein^  but  a  i)rivate  man  again. 
You  shall  know  many  dare  accuse  you  boldly. 
More  than,  I  fear,  you  are  provided  for. 

Craft.  Ah,  my  good   Lord  of  Winchester.  I  ihank  you; 
You're  always  my  good  friend  ;  if  your  will  pass, 
I  shall  both  find  your  lordship  judge  and  juror. 
You  are  so  merciful :  I  see  your  end. — 
'Tis  my  undoing  :  love  and  meekness,  lord. 
Become  a  churchman  better  than  ambition  : 
Win  straying  souls  with  modesty  again. 
Cast  none  away.     That  I  shall  clear  myself. 
Lay  all  the  weight  ye  can  upon  my  patience, 
I  make  as  little  doubt,  as  you  do  conscience 
In  doing  daily  wrongs.     I  could  say  more. 
But  reverence  to  your  calling  makes  me  modest. 

Card.  My  lord,  my  lord,  y<ju  are  a  sectary. 
That's  the  plain  truth  :  your  painted  gloss  discovers. 
To  men  that  understancj  you.  words  and  weakness. 

Crom.  My  Lord  of  Winchester,  yyu  are  a  little. 
By  your  good  favor,  too  sharp  ;  men  so  noble, 
However  faulty,  yet  should  find  respect 
For  what  they  have  bein  :  'tis  a  cruelty 
To  load  a  falling  man. 

Card.  C.ood  master  secretary, 

I  cry  your  honor  mercy  ;  )()U  may.  w<»rsl 
Of  allthis  table,  say  so. 

Crom.  Why,  my  lord  .> 

Card.  Do  not  1  kncnv  you  for  a  favorer 
Of  this  new  sect  }  ye  are  not  sound. 

Crom.  Nt't  sound  } 

Card.  Not  sound,  I  say. 

Crom.  Would  you  were  lialf  so  honest} 

Men's  i)ravers  then  woukl  seek  vou.  not  the  ir  fears. 

Card,    i  shall  remember  this  bold  language. 

Crom.  ^^ 

Remember  your  bold  life  too. 

K.H.vni.  8i.]  VII.  33J. 


Act  r.]  KIXG  HEXRV  THE  EIGHTH,  [Scene  11, 

Chan.  This  is  too  much  ; 

Forbear,  for  shame,  my  lords. 

Gard.  I've  done. 

Crom.  And  I. 

Chan.   Then  thus  for  you,  my  lord  :  —  it  stands  agreed, 
I  take  it,  by  all  voices,  that  forthwith 
You  be  convey'd  to  the  Tower  a  prisoner ; 
There  to  remain  till  the  king's  further  pleasure 
Be  known  unto  us  : — are  you  all  agreed,  lords? 

All.  We  are. 

Cran.  Is  there  no  other  way  of  mercy, 

But  I  must  needs  to  the  Tower,  my  lords  ? 

Gard.  What  other 

Would  you  expect.-*  you're  strangely  troublesome. — 
Let  some  o'  the  guard  be  ready  there ! 

Enter  Guard. 
Cran.  For  me  ? 

Must  I  go  like  a  traitor  thither  } 

Gard.  Receive  him, 

And  see  him  safe  i'  the  Tower. 

Cran.  Stay,  good  my  lords, 

I've  a  little  yet  to  say.     Look  there,  my  lords ; 
By  virtue  of  that  ring  I  take  my  cause        [ShoTvi?ig  ring^ 
Out  of  the  gripes  of  cruel  men,  and  give  it 
To  a  most  noble  judge,  the  king  my  master. 

Chan.  This  is  the  king's  ring. 

Siir.  'Tis  no  counterfeit. 

Suf.  'Tis  the  right  ring,  by  heaven  :  I  told  ye  all, 
When  we  first  put  this  dangerous  stone  a-rolling, 
'Twould  fall  upon  ourselves. 

Nor.  Do  you  think,  my  lords. 

The  king  will  suffer  but  the  little  linger 
Of  this  man  to  be  vex'd  ? 

Chan.  'Tis  now  too  certain  : 

How  much  more  is  his  life  in  value  with  him  ! 
Would  I  were  fairly  out  on't  ! 

Crojn.  My  mind  gave  me. 

In  seeking  tales  and  informations 
Against  this  man, —  whose  honesty  the  devil 
And  his  disciples  only  envy  at, — 
Ye  blew  the  fire  that  burns  ye  :  now  have  at  ye  \ 

VII.  334.  [k.h.viii.  82. 


Acn'.]  KIXG  HESKV  THE  men  m.  \&€mtU, 

Enter  the  YS\x\<^,frinL<nin^  on  tJum  ;  /u  titles  kit  uat. 

Caret.  Dread  sovereign,  lujw   much  are   \vc  bound  to 
heaven 
In  daily  thanks,  that  gave  us  such  a  prince ; 
Not  only  good  and  wise,  hut  most  n-ligious: 
One  that,  in  all  obedience,  makes  tlu-  church 
The  chief  aim  of  his  honor  ;  and,  to  strengthen 
That  holy  duty,  out  of  dear  respect. 
His  royal  self  in  judgment  comes  lo  hear 
The  cause  betwixt  her  and  this  great  offender. 

K.  Hen.  You  were  ever  good  at  sudden  commendations. 
Bishop  of  Winchester.     Hut  know,  I  come  not 
To  hear  such  flatteries  now,  and  in  my  presence; 
They  are  too  thin  and  l)are  to  hide  offenses. 
To  me,  you  cannot  reach,  you  |)lay  the  spaniel. 
And  think  with  wagging  of  your  tongue  lo  win  me; 
But,  whatsoe'er  thou  tak'st  me  for.  I'm  sure 
Thou  hast  a  cruel  nature  and  a  bloody. — 
\^To  Crannier']  Ciood  man,  sit  down.    Now  let  me  see  the 

proudest. 
He  that  dares  most,  but  wag  his  finger  at  thee  : 
By  all  that's  holy,  he  had  better  starve 
Than  but  once  think  this  |)lace  becomes  thee  not. 

Sur.  May't  please  your  grace, — 

K.  Hen.  No,  sir,  it  does  not  pirasc  mc, 

I  had  thought  I  had  had  men  of  some  understanding 
And  wisdom  of  my  council  ;  but  1  find  none. 
Was  it  discretion,  lords,  to  let  this  man. 
This  good  man, —  few  of  you  deserve  that  title,— 
This  honest  man,  wait  like  a  lousy  foolboy 
At  chamber-door?  and  one  as  great  as  you  are? 
Why,  what  a  shame  was  this!     Did  niy  commissioo 
Bid  ye  so  far  forget  yourselves  }     I  gave  ye 
Power  as  he  was  a  counselor  to  try  him. 
Not  as  a  groom  :  there's  some  of  ye.  I  see, 
More  out  of  malice  than  integrity. 
Would  try  him  to  the  utmost,  had  ye  mean  ; 
Which  ye  shall  ne'er  have  while  1  live. 

C/ian.  Thus  f.u. 

My  most  dread  sovereign,  may  it  like  y«'ur  K'''-'^<^« 
To  let  my  tongue  excuse  all.     What  w.ui  purpotd 

K.H.vin.83.]  VII.. ^35. 


aci  ^.]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  {Scene  III, 

Concerning  his  imprisonment,  was  rather  — 
If  there  be  faith  in  men  —  meant  for  his  trial. 
And  fair  purgation  to  the  world,  than  malice, — 
I'm  sure  in  me. 

K.  Hen.  Well,  well,  my  lords,  respect  him ; 

Take  him,  and  use  him  well,  he's  worthy  of  it. 
I  will  say  thus  much  for  him, —  if  a  prince 
May  be  beholding  to  a  subject,  I 
Am,  for  his  love  and  service,  so  to  him. 
Make  me  no  more  ado,  but  all  embrace  him : 
Be  friends,  for  shame,  my  lords  !  —  My  Lord  of  Canter- 
bury, 
I  have  a  suit  which  you  must  not  deny  me  ; 
That  is,  a  fair  young  maid  that  yet  wants  baptism, 
You  must  be  godfather,  and  answer  for  her. 

Cran.  The  greatest  monarch  now  alive  may  glory 
In  such  an  honor :  how  may  I  deserve  it, 
That  am  a  poor  and  humble  subject  to  you  } 

K.  Hen.  Come,  come,  my  lord,  you'd  spare  your  spoons : 
you  shall  have 
Two  noble  partners  with  you  ;  th'  old  Duchess  of  Norfolk, 
And  Lady  Marquess  Dorset :  will  these  please  you  }  — 
Once  more,  my  Lord  of  Winchester,  I  charge  you, 
Embrace  and  love  this  man. 

Gard.  With  a  true  heart 

And  brother-love  I  do  it. 

Cran.  And  let  heaven 

Witness,  how  dear  I  hold  this  confirmation. 

K.  Hen.  Good  man,  those  joyful  tears  show  thy  true 
heart : 
The  common  voice,  I  see,  is  verified 
Of  thee,  which  says  thus,  "  Do  my  Lord  of  Canterbury 
A  shrewd  turn,  and  he  is  your  friend  for  ever." — 
Come,  lords,  we  trifle  time  away  ;  I  long 
To  have  this  young  one  made  a  Christian. 
As  I  have  made  ye  one,  lords,  one  remain  ; 
So  I  grow  stronger,  you  more  honor  gain.  \^Exeiint. 

Scene  IH.   The palace-ya7'd. 
Noise  and  tumult  luitki'n.     Enter  Porter  and  his  Man. 
Port,  You'll  leave  your  noise  anon,  ye  rascals :   do  you 
VII.  336.  [k.h.viii.  84. 


Act  /-.]  KING  I/KNKV  THE  EIGHTH.  \S.,n,  lit. 

take  the  court  for  Parish-garden  ?  ye  ruilc  slaves,  leave 
your  gai)ing. 

[  lVithin\  Good  master  porter.  I  beh)ng  to  the  larder. 

Port.  Belong  to  the  gallows,  and  be  hangrd.  \r  rogue! 
is  this  a  place  to  roar  in  ?  —  Fetch  mc  a  do/'-n '<  rnh-trcc 
staves,  and  strong  ones:  these  are  but  swii«  1  — 

I'll  scratch  your  heads:  you  niust  be  st-eing  ■  ^s| 

do  you  look  for  ale  and  cakes  here,  you  rude  r.is(  .\\->  : 

Man.  Pray,  sir,  be  i)atient  :  'tis  as  inucli  impossible  — 
Unless  we  sweep  'em  from  the  door  with  cannons  — 
To  scatter  'em,  as  'tis  to  make  'em  sleep 
On  May-day  morning;  which  will  never  be: 
We  may  as  well  i)ush  against  Paul's  as  stir  'cm. 

Port.  How  got  they  in,  and  be  hang'd  ? 

Ma?i.  Alas,  1  know  not  ;  how  gets  the  tide  in^ 
As  much  as  one  sountl  cudgel  of  four  foot  — 
You  see  the  poor  remainder  —  could  distribute. 
1  made  no  spare,  sir. 

Port.  You  did  nothing,  sir. 

Man.   I  am  not  Samson,  nor  Sir  (iuy.  nor  Colbrand, 
To  mow  'em  down  before  me :  but  if  I  sj)ar'd  any 
That  had  a  head  to  hit,  either  young  or  old, 
He  or  she,  cuckold  or  cuckold-maker. 
Let  me  ne'er  hope  to  see  a  chine  again  ; 
And  that  I  would  not  for  a  cow.  (iod  s.ive  her  ! 

[  /fV////;/]    Do  you  hear,  master  |)orter.' 

Port.  I  shall  be  with  you  presently,  good  master  puppy. 
—  Keep  the  door  close,  sirrah. 

Man.  What  would  \ ou  have  me  do  ? 

Port.  What  shouldyou  do  but  knock  'em  down  by  the 
dozens?  Is  this  Moortields  to  muster  in?  or  h.i\e  \sc 
some  strange  Indian  with  the  great  tool  come  t 
the  women  so  besiege  us?  Bless  me,  what  a  fi\ 
nication  is  at  door!  On  my  Christian  conscience.  (i..s  ouc 
christening  will  beget  a  thousand ;  here  will  be  falher, 
godfather,  and  all  together. 

Man.  The  si)oons  will  be  the  bigger,  sir.  _  There  Is  a 
fellow  somewhat  near  the  door.—  he  should  ' 
by  his  face,  for,  o'  my  conscience,  twenty  of  i 
now  reign  in's  nose;'all  that  stand  about  h  •  i 

the  line'thev  need  no  other  penance  :  that   t  ■  id 

I  hit  three  times  on  the  head,  and  three  limes  v....  .  .    ...  sc 

K.H.VIII.  85.)  VII.  337. 


Af^  y.}  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  {.Scene  I IL 

discharged  against  me  ;  he  stands  there,  like  a  mortar- 
piece,  to  blow  us.  There  was  a  haberdasher's  wife  of 
small  wit  near  him,  that  railed  upon  me,  till  her  pinked  por- 
ringer fell  off  her  head,  for  kindling  such  a  combustion  in 
the  state.  I  missed  the  meteor  once,  and  hit  that  woman, 
who  cried  out  "Clubs  !  "  when  I  might  see  from  far  some 
forty  truncheoners  draw  to  her  succor,  which  were  the 
hope  o'  the  Strand,  where  she  was  quartered.  They  fell 
on  ;  I  made  good  my  place  :  at  length  they  came  to  the 
broomstaff  with  me  ;  I  defied  'em  still  :  when  suddenly  a 
file  of  boys  behind  'em,  loose  shot,  delivered  such  a 
shower  of  pebbles,  that  I  was  fain  to  draw  mine  honor  in, 
and  let  'em  win  the  work  :  the  devil  was  amongst  'em,  I 
think,  surely. 

Port.  These  are  the  youths  that  thunder  at  a  playhouse, 
and  fight  for  bitten  apples  ;  that  no  audience,  but  the  Tri- 
bulation of  Tower-hill,  or  the  Limbs  of  Limehouse,  their 
dear  brothers,  are  able  to  endure.  I  have  some  of  'em  in 
Limbo  Patruni,  and  there  they  are  like  to  dance  these 
three  days  ;  besides  the  running  banquet  of  two  beadles 
that  is  to  come. 

Enter  the  Lord  Chamberlain. 

Cham.  Mercy  o'  me,  what  a  multitude  are  here ! 
They  grow  still  too  :  from  all  parts  they  are  coming. 
As  if  we  kept  a  fair  here !     Where  are  these  porters. 
These  lazy  knaves.^ — -Ye've  made  a  fine  hand,  fellows: 
There's  a  trim  rabble  let  in  :  are  all  these 
Your  faithful  friends  o'  the  suburbs  ?     We  shall  have 
Great  store  of  room,  no  doubt,  left  for  the  ladies, 
When  they  pass  back  from  the  christening. 

Port.  An't  please  your  honof 

We  are  but  men  ;  and  what  so  many  may  do. 
Not  being  torn  a-pieces,  we  have  done  : 
An  army  cannot  rule  'em. 

Cham.  As  I  live, 

If  the  king  blame  me  fer't,  I'll  lay  ye  all 
By  the  heels,  and  suddenly  ;  and  on  your  heads 
Clap  round  fines  for  neglect :  ye're  lazy  knaves : 
And  here  ye  lie  baiting  of  bombards,  when 
Ye  should  do  service.     Hark  !  the  trumpets  sound; 
They're  come  already  from  the  christening : 

VII.  338.  (k.h.viii.  86. 


^ct  y.l  KING  I/F.XK  J '  77/ E  EH .//  / //  f &  /./  /r. 

Go,  break  amon^r  the  |)rcss.  aiul  \\m\  a  way  out 
To  let  the  troop  pass  fairly;  or  MI  find 
A  Marshalsea  shall  hold  ve  play  these  two  months. 
Port.  Make  way  there  for  the  i)rinccss  ! 

'^^V'\  ,,,        ,  You  ^al  fellow. 

btand  close  up,  or  I  11  make  your  head  achel 

Port.   You  i'  the  camlet. 
Get  up  o'  the  rail ;  Til  pick  you  o'er  the  pales  else. 

Scene  IV.  The paluc 

Enter  trumpets,  sound in^;  ;  then  two  Aldermen.  Lord 
Mayor,  Garter,  Cranmek.  Duke  of  NokKni.K  with 
his  marshal's  staff,  Duke  of  SUFFOLK, /r.v>  Noblemen 
beari'jig  p-eat  sta>ui/fig-btru'/s  /or  the  ihriiter.:Hgm 
gifts;  then  four  Noblemen  A<r;/>/;-  a  mnopv.  un^ 
der  7i>hich  the  Duchess  of  Norfolk,  i^odmother, 
bearing  the  child  richly  habited  in  a  mantle,  &*c., 
train  borne  by  a  Lady;  then  folhru's  the  Mar- 
chioness of  Dorset,  the  other  godmother  and 
Ladies.  The  troop  pass  once  about  the  stage,  and 
Garter  speaks. 

Gart.  Heaven,  from  thy  endless  goodness,  send  pros- 
perous life,  long,  and  ever  happy,  to  the  hi^jh  and  mighty 
princess  of  England,  Elizabeth  I 

Flourish.     Enter  King  and  Train. 

Cran.  \kneeling\  And  to  your  royal  grace,  and  the  good 
queen. 
My  noble  partners  and  myself  thus  pra\  ;  — 
All  comfort,  joy,  in  this  most  gracious  lady. 
Heaven  ever  laid  up  to  make  parents  hapi)y. 
May  hourly  fall  upon  ye  I 

A'.  //dV/.  Thank  you,  good  lord  archbishop  : 

What  is  her  name  ? 

Cran.  Elizabeth. 

K.  Hen.  Stand  up.  lord. — 

[Cranmer  rises. —  '/'he  King  lisses  the  Ckild, 
With  this  kiss  take  my  blessing:  God'protccl  thee! 
Into  whose  hand  I  give  thy  life. 

Cran.  '         .Amen. 

K.H.VIII.  87.)  ^'11    339- 


Aar.]  KING  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  lSce7ie  IV 

K.  Hen,  My  noble  gossips,  ye've  been  too  prodigal : 
I  thank  ye  heartily  ;  so  shall  this  lady, 
When  she  has  so  much  English. 

Cran.  Let  me  speak,  sir, 

For  heaven  now  bids  me  ;  and  the  words  I  utter 
Let  none  think  flattery,  for  they'll  find  'em  truth. 
This  royal  infant  —  heaven  still  move  about  her!  — 
Though  in  her  cradle,  yet  now  promises 
Upon  this  land  a  thousand  thousand  blessings, 
Which  time  shall  bring  to  ripeness  :  she  shall  be  — 
But  few  now  living  can  behold  that  goodness  — 
A  pattern  to  all  princes  living  with  her. 
And  all  that  shall  succeed  :  Saba  was  never 
More  covetous  of  wisdom  and  fair  virtue 
Than  this  pure  soul  shall  be  :  all  princely  graces, 
That  mold  up  such  a  mighty  piece  as  this  is, 
With  all  the  virtues  that  attend  the  good. 
Shall  still  be  doubled  on  her  :  truth  shall  nurse  her. 
Holy  and  heavenly  thoughts  still  counsel  her  : 
She  shall  be  lov'd  and  fear'd  :  her  own  shall  bless  her, 
Her  foes  shake  like  a  field  of  beaten  corn, 
And  hang  their  heads  with  sorrow  :  good  grows  with  herr 
In  her  days  ever}"  man  shall  eat  in  safety, 
Under  his  own  vine,  what  he  plants  ;  and  sing 
The  merry  songs  of  peace  to  all  his  neighbors: 
God  shall  be  truly  known  ;  and  those  about  her 
From  her  shall  read  the  perfect  ways  of  honor, 
And  by  those  claim  their  greatness,  not  by  blood. 
Nor  shall  this  peace  sleep  with  her :  but  as  when 
The  bird  of  wonder  dies,  the  maiden  phoenix. 
Her  ashes  new  create  another  heir. 
As  great  in  admiration  as  herself ; 
So  shall  she  leave  her  blessedness  to  one, 
When  heaven  shall  call  her  from  this  cloud  of  darkness, 
Who  from  the  sacred  ashes  of  her  honor 
Shall  star-like  rise,  as  great  in  fame  as  she  was, 
And  so  stand  fix'd :  peace,  plenty,  love,  truth,  terror, 
That  were  the  servants  to  this  chosen  infant. 
Shall  then  be  his,  and  like  a  vine  grow  to  him  : 
Wherever  the  bright  sun  of  heaven  shall  shine, 
His  honor  and  the  greatness  of  his  name 
Shall  be,  and  make  new  nations :  he  shall  flourish, 

VII.  340.  [k.h.vih.  88. 


4ct  r.]  A'/XC  ///■:. \- A' i'  THE  HIL}/ 


IV. 


And,  like  a  mountain  cedar,  reach  his  l)ranchcs 

To  all  ihc  plains  about  liim  :  —  our  children's  children 

Shall  see  this,  and  bless  heaven. 

A'.  Hen.  Thou  speakcst  wondcrt. 

Cran.  She  shall  be,  to  the  hap|)iness  of  Mngland, 
An  aged  princess ;  many  days  shall  see  her, 
And  yet  no  day  without  a  deed  to  crown  it. 
Would  I  had  known  no  more  I  but  she  must  die, — 
She  must,  the  saints  must  have  her.—  yet  a  vir>;in  ; 
A  most  unspotted  lily  shall  she  pass 
To  the  ground,  and  all  the  world  shall  mourn  her. 

K.  Jlcfi.   O  lord  archbishop. 
Thou  hast  made  me  now  a  man !  never  before 
This  happy  child  did  I  get  any  thing  : 
This  oracle  of  comfort  has  so  pleas'd  mc. 
That  when  I  am  in  heaven  I  shall  desire 
To  see  what  this  child  does,  and  i)raise  my  Maker.— 
I  thank  ye  all. —  To  you,  my  good  lord  mayor. 
And  your  good  brethren,  I  am  nmch  beholding; 
I  have  receiv'd  much  honor  by  your  |)resencc. 
And  ye  shall  find  me  thankful. —  Lead  the  wav,  lords: ^ 
Ye  must  all  see  the  queen,  and  she  must  thank  yc; 
She  will  be  sick  else.     This  day  no  man  think 
'Has  business  at  his  house  ;  for  all  shall  stay : 
This  little  one  shall  make  it  holiday.  [ExtUHL 

EPILOGl'E. 

'Tis  ten  to  one  this  play  can  never  please 
All  that  are  here :  some  come  to  take  their  ease. 
And  sleep  an  act  or  two;  but  those,  we  fear. 
We've  frighted  with  our  trumjx-ts  ;  so,  'tis  clear. 
They'll  sav  'tis  naught :  others,  to  hear  the  citjr 
Abus'd  e.x'tremely,  and  to  cr>',  ••  Thai's  witty  I 
Which  we  have  not  done  neither:  that,  1  fear. 
All  the  expected  good  were  like  to  hear 
For  this  play  at  this  time,  is  only  in 
The  merciful  construction  of  good  women  ; 
For  such  a  one  we  show'd  'em:  if  they  smile. 
And  say  'twill  do,  I  know,  within  a  while 
All  the' best  men  are  ours;  for  'tis  ill  h.ip. 
If  they  hold  when  their  ladies  bid  'em  clap. 

K.H.Vin.  89.)  VII.    141. 


THE  TWO  NOBLR  KIXSMI^X. 


DRAMATIS    PERSONiE. 


Theseus,  duke  of  Athens. 

PiRlTHOUS,  an  Athenian  gen- 
eral. 

Artesius,  an  Athenian  cap- 
tain. 

Palamon,  )  nephews  to  Creon 

Arcite,       f     king  of  Thebes. 

Valerius,  a  Theban  noble- 
man. 

Six  Knights. 

Herald. 

Gaoler. 

Wooer  to  the  Gaoler's  Daugh- 
ter. 


Doctor. 

Brother  ) 

Friends  ^ 

Gentleman. 

Gerroi.d,  a  school nuuter. 


to  the  Gaoler. 


HlPPOLYl  A,  ..11  .\iu.i/    n,  I 

to  Theseus. 
E.MII  lA,  her  sister. 
Three  Queens, 
Gaoler's  Daughter. 
Waitiug-woman  to  Emilii 


Countrymen,  Messengers,   a  man   personating   Hymen.    Boy. 

Executioner,  Guard,  and   Attendants.     Country  wenches, 

and  women  personating  Nymphs. 

Scene  —  Athens  and  the  neighborhood,  except  in  part 

of  the  first  act,  luhere  it  is  Thebes 

and  the  neighborhood. 


PROLOGUE. 


{Flourish. 


New  plays  and  maidenheads  are  near  akin  ; 
jNIuch  follow'd  both,  for  both  much  money  K''^'". 
If  they  stand  sound  and  well :  and  a  good  play. 
Whose  modest  scenes  blush  on  his  marriai;r-<lay. 
And  shake  to  lose  his  honor,  is  like  hrr 
That,  after  holy  tie  and  tirst  night's  stir. 
Yet  still  is  moclesty,  and  still  rt-tains 

TN  K    >'  VII.  «4V 


Aci/.-]  THE   nvO  NOBLE  KINSMEI^.  \Scen*  f. 

More  of  the  maid  to  '^ght  than  husband's  pains. 

We  pray  our  play  m?Y  be  so;  for  I'm  sure 

It  has  a  noble  breede~  and  a  pure, 

A  learned,  and  a  poe*  never  went 

More  famous  yet  't\vi'>'t  Po  and  silver  Trent ; 

Chaucer,  of  all  admir'i,  the  story  gives  ; 

There  constant  to  eternity  it  lives. 

If  we  let  fall  the  nobleness  of  this. 

And  the  first  soimd  t^is  child  hear  be  a  hiss, 

How  will  it  shake  the  bones  of  that  good  man, 

And  make  him  cry  fr-'-'m  under  ground,  "  O,  fan 

From  me  the  witless  ':haff  of  such  a  writer 

That  blasts  my  bayr,  ^nd  my  fam'd  works  makes  lightet 

Than  Robin  Hood  !  "  This  is  the  fear  we  bring  ; 

For,  to  say  truth,  it  vere  an  endless  thing, 

And  too  ambitiouSj  *o  aspire  to  him. 

Weak  as  we  are,  and  almost  breathless  swim 

In  this  deep  water,  do  but  you  hold  out 

Your  helping  hands,  and  we  shall  tack  about. 

And  something  do  to  save  us:  you  shall  hear 

Scenes,  though  below  his  art,  may  yet  appear 

Worth  two  hours'  travail.     To  his  bones  sweet  sleep ! 

Content  to  you  ! —  If  this  play  do  not  keep 

A  little  dull  time  from  us,  we  perceive 

Our  ]oss*i«  fall  so  thick,  we  must  needs  leave.    [Flourish, 

ACT  I. 
Scene  I.  Athens.    Befo?'e  a  temple. 

Enie*  T-Tymen  7uzth  a  torch  burnhig  ;  a  Boy,  in  a  white 
rohc,  before,  singing  and  streiuing  flowers  ;  after 
Hymen,  a  Nymph,  encompassed  in  her  tresses,  bearing 
a  wheateti  garland  :  then  Tkesevs,  betiaeen  two 
other  Nymphs  with  wheaten  chaplets  on  their 
heads;  then  HiPPOLYTA,  the  bride,  led  by 
PiRITHOUS,  a7td  another  holding  a  garland  over 
her  head,  her  tresses  likeivise  hajiging  ;  after  her, 
Emilia,  holding  up  her  train  ;  Artesius  and 
Attendants. 


'ai.   34O,  [T.N.K. 


Act  /.)  T//£  mo  A'.  >U/.  E  KiySM&Ji.  I  ^mt  /. 

Song  by  the  Boy, 

Roses,  their  sharp  spines  hcinjj  goot. 

Not  royal  in  their  smells  alone. 

But  in  ihcir  hue  ; 
Maiden  pinks,  of  odcjr  faint. 
Daisies  sniell-less.  yet  most  quaint. 

And  sweet  thyme  true; 

Primrose,  first-born  child  of  Vcr, 
Merry  si)rinj^-iime's  iiarbingcr. 

With  her  bells  dim; 
Oxiips  in  their  cradles  j;ro\ving. 
Marigolds  on  deathbeds  blowing, 

Lark's-heels  trim  ; 

All  dear  Nature's  children  sweet. 
Lie  'fore  bride  and  bridegroom's  feel. 

Blessing  their  sense T      {Strt-'.cing  JUjfWfrt^ 

Not  an  angel  of  the  air, 
Bird  melodious  or  bird  fair. 
Be  absent  hence ! 

The  crow,  the  slanderous  cuckoo,  nor 
The  boding  raven,  nor  chough  hoar. 

Nor  chattering  pie, 
May  on  our  bride-house  perch  or  sing. 
Or  with  them  any  discord  bring. 

But  from  it  ily  I 

Enter  three  Queens,  in  black,  luith  veils  stainrJ,  amd 

wearimr    imperial  crcm>ns.     The  first  Queen  failt 

down  at    the  foot  of    Thf.skus;    the    seionJ 

falls  down  at  the  foot  of  Hll'POLV  Y\  ;  tJU 

third  before  \\\\\\.\\. 

First  Queen.  For  pity's  sake  and  true  gentility's. 
Hear,  and  respect  me ! 

Sec.  (Jneen.  '      For  your  mother's  s,»kr. 

And  as^ou  wish  your  womb  may  thrive  with  fair  ones. 
Hear,  and  respect  me  I 

Third  (2iicen.   Now.   for  the  love  of  him   whom  Jorf 
halh  maik'd 
The  honor  of  your  bed,  ami  for  the  sake 

T.N.K.  5.]  Vil    J47. 


fid  /.]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  \Scen£  i. 

Of  clear  virginity,  be  advocate 
For  us  and  our  "distresses  !  This  good  deed 
Shall  raze  you  out  o'  the  book  of  trespasses 
All  you  are  set  down  there. 

Thes.  Sad  lady,  rise. 

Hii).  Stand  up. 

Enii.  No  knees  to  me : 

What  woman  I  may  stead  that  is  distress'd 
Does  bind  me  to  her. 

Thes.  What's  your  request  ?  deliver  you  for  all. 

First  Queen,  We  are  three  queens,  whose  sovereigns 
fell  before 
The  wrath  of  cruel  Creon  ;  who  endure 
The  beaks  of  ravens,  talons  of  the  kites. 
And  pecks  of  crows,  in  the  foul  fields  of  Thebes: 
He  will  not  suffer  us  to  burn  their  bones. 
To    urn  their  ashes,  nor  to  take  th'  offense 
Of  mortal  loathsomeness  from  the  blest  eye 
Of  holy  Phoebus,  but  infects  the  winds 
With  stench  of  our  slain  lords.     O,  pity,  duke  ! 
Thou  purger  of  the  earth,  draw  thy  fear'd  sword, 
That  does  good  turns  to  the  world  ;  give  us  the  bones 
Of  our  dead  kings,  that  we  may  chapel  them  ; 
And,  of  thy  boundless  goodness,  take  some  note 
That  for  our  crowned  heads  we  have  no  roof 
Save  this,  which  is  the  lion's  and  the  bear's, 
And  vault  to  every  thing  ! 

Thes.  Pray  you,  kneel  not  : 

I  was  transported  with  your  speech,  and  suffer'd 
Your  knees  to  wrong  themselves.   I've  heard  the  fortunes 
Of  your  dead  lords,  which  gives  me  such  lamenting 
As  wakes  my  vengeance^and  revenge  for  'em. 
King  Capaneus  was  your  lord  :  the  day 
That  he  should  marr}^  you,  at  such  a  season 
As  now  it  is  with  me,  I  met  your  groom 
By  Mars's  altar  ;  you  were  that  time  fair. 
Not  Juno's  mantle  fairer  than  your  trusses, 
Nor  in  more  bounty  spread  her ;  your  wheaten  wreath 
Was  then  nor  thrash'd  nor  blasted  ;  Fortune  at  you 
Dimpled  her  cheeks  with  smiles  ;  Hercules  our  kinsman- 
Then  weaker  than  your  eyes  — laid  by  his  club; 
He  tumbled  down  upon  his  Nemean  hide* 

VII.  34S  [T.N.K.& 


Ad  n  THE  TUO  XO/iLE  h'lXSMES.  [S^trnt  k 

And  swore  his  sinews  thaw'd.     O.  j^ricf  and  lime. 
Fearful  consumers,  you  will  all  drx our ! 

Fi?'st  (Jui-rn.  O.  I  hope  sonu!  ;^otl, 
Some  ood  jiath  i)ut  his  mercy  in  your  manhood, 
Whereto  he'll  infuse  power,  and  press  you  forth 
Our  undertaker ! 

'jyii's.  O,  no  knees,  none,  widow  I 

Unto  the  helmcted  Bellona  use  them, 
And  i)ray  for  me,  your  soldier. — 
Troubled  I  am.  [7'/////^  ii.Lty 

St'c.  Queen,  Honor'd  Hi|)i)olyta, 
Most  dreaded  Amazonian,  that  hast  slain 
The  scythe-tusk'd  boar  ;  that,  with  thy  arm  as  strong 
As  it  is  white,  wast  near  to  make  the  male 
To  thy  sex  captive,  but  that  this  thy  lord  — 
Born  to  uphold  creation  in  that  honor 
First  Nature  styl'd  it  in  —  shrunk  thee  into 
The  bound  thou  wast  o'erflowinj^,  at  once  subduing 
Thy  force  and  thy  affection  ;  soldieress, 
That  equally  canst  poise  sternness  with  pii\  : 
\Vho  now,  i  know,  hast  much  more  power  on  him 
Than  e'er  he  had  on  thee;  who  ow'st  his  slrenjjth 
And  iiis  love  too,  who  is  a  servant  for 
The  tenor  of  thy  speech  ;  dear  i;lass  of  ladies, 
Bid  him  that  we,  whom  riaminj^  War  doth  scorch. 
Under  the  shadow  of  his  sword  may  cool  us; 
Require  him  he  advance  it  o'er  our  heads  ; 
Speak't  in  a  woman's  key,  like  such  a  woman 
As  any  of  us  three  ;  weep  ere  you  fail  ; 
Lend  us  a  knee; 

But  touch  the  <(round  for  us  no  lonj^er  time 
Than  a  dove's  motion,  when  the  lu-ad's  pluck'd  of!; 
Tell  him.  if  he  i'  the  blood-siz'd  tu-ld  lay   swoln. 
Showing  the  sun  his  teeth.  <j^rinning  at  the  moon. 
What  you  would  do  ! 

Hip.  Poor  lady,  say  no  more  : 

I  had  as  lief  trace  this  jj^ood  action  with  you 
As  that  whereto  Fm  j^oinij.  and  ne'er  yet 
Went  I  so  willing  way.     My  lord  is  taken 
Heart-deep  with  your  distress  :  let  him  consider; 
Fll  speak  anon. 

Third  QittYfi.  [  To  Emih\x\  O.  my  petit-—  ^^  '«^ 


Actr.'\  THE  Tiro  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  IScetut. 

Set  down  in  ice,  which,  by  hot  grief  uncandied. 
r^Ielts  into  drops  ;  so  sorrow,  wanting  form, 
Is  press'd  with  deeper  matter. 

isw/.  Pray,  stand  up: 

Your  grief  is  written  in  your  cheek. 

Third  Queen.  O,  woe! 

You  cannot  read  it  there  :  there,  through  my  tears, 
Like  wrinkled  pebbles  in  a  glassy  stream. 
You  may  behold  it.     Lady,  lady,  alack. 
He  that  will  all  the  treasure  know  o'  ih'  earth 
Must  know  the  center  too  ;  he  that  will  fish 
For  my  least  minnow,  let  him  lead  his  line 
To  catch  one  at  my  heart.     O,  pardon  me! 
Extremity,  that  sharpens  sundr}-  wits, 
]\Lakes  me  a  fool. 

Emi.  Pray  you,  say  nothing  ;  pray  you 

AVho  cannot  feel  nor  see  the  rain,  being  in't. 
Knows  neither  wet  nor  dry.     If  that  you  were 
The  ground-piece  of  some  painter,  I  would  buy  you, 
T*  instruct  me  'gainst  a  capital  grief  indeed  ;  — 
Such  heart-pierc'd  demonstration  !  —  but,  alas. 
Being  a  natural  sister  of  our  sex. 
Your  sorrow  beats  so  ardently  upon  me. 
That  it  shall  make  a  counter-reflect  "gainst 
^ly  brother's  heart,  and  warm  it  to  some  pity. 
Though  it  were  made  of  stone  :  pray,  have  good  comfort, 

Thes.   Forward  to  the  temple  I  leave  not  out  a  jot 
O'  the  sacred  ceremony. 

First  Queen.  O,  this  celebration 

AVill  longer  last,  and  be  more  costly,  than 
Your  suppliants'  war  !  Remember  that  your  fame 
Knolls  in  th'  ear  o'  the  world  :  what  you  do  quickly 
Is  not  done  rashly ;  your  first  thought  is  more 
Than  others'  labor'd  meditance  ;  your  premeditating 
More  than  their  actions ;  but  —  O  Jove  !  —  your  actions, 
•Soon  as  they  move,  as  ospreys  do  the  fish, 
Subdue  before  they  touch  :  think,  dear  duke,  think 
AYhat  beds  our  slain  kings  have  ! 

Sec.  Queen.  What  griefs  our  beds, 

That  our  dear  lords  have  none  ! 

Third  Queen,  None  fit  for  the  dead  I 

Those  that  with  cords,  knives,  drams,  precipitance, 

VII.  35a.  [t.w.k.1. 


A.-t  /.]  TJIi;  TA  O  NOBLE  K/NSJttEX.  i  v.  ,^  /. 

Weary  of  this  uorld's  li^'hi.  have  u>  themselves 
Been  death's  most  liorrici  a^'cnts,  human  grace 
Affords  tliem  dust  and  shadow. 

First  (Jinrn.  Hut  our  lords 

Lie  blisterin;^  'fore  the  vishatin;,'  sun. 
And  were  good  kings  when  living. 

^'/'^'•f-  Iti^itruc; 

And  I  will  give  you  comfort, 
To  give  your  dead  lords  graves  :  the  which  to  do 
•Must  make  some  work  with  Creon. 

First  (Jiurn.  And  that  work 

Presents  itself  to  the  doing: 

Now  'twill  take  form  ;  the  heats  are  gone  lo-morrow. 
Then  bootless  toil  must  recompense  itself 
With  its  own  sweat  ;  now  he  is  secure, 
Not  dreams  we  stand  before  your  puissance. 
Rinsing  our  holy  begging  in  our  eye^. 
To  make  petition  clear. 

Sec.  (2ucen.  Now  you  may  lake  hitn 

Drunk  with  his  victory. 

Third  Qiii-oi.  And  his  army  full 

Of  bread  and  sloth. 

Thes.  .\rtesius,  that  best  know'st 

How  to  draw  out,  fit  to  this  enterjirise 
The  prim'st  for  this  i)roceeding.  and  the  number 
To  carry  such  a  business  ;  forth  and  levy 
Our  worthiest  instruments;  whilst  we  dispatch 
This  grand  act  of  our  life,  this  daring  deed 
Of  fate  in  wedlock. 

First  Qut'cn.         Dowagers,  take  hands  ; 
Let  us  be  widows  to  our  woes ;  delay 
Commends  us  to  a  famishing  hope. 

All  the  Queens.  Farewell! 

Sec.  Queen.  We  come  unseasonably;  but  whra  could 
grief 
Cull  forth,  as  un|)ang'd  judgment  can,  fitl'st  time 
Vov  best  solicitation  } 

Thes.  Why,  good  ladies. 

This  is  a  service,  whereto  I  am  g«'ing. 
Greater  than  any  war;  it  more  imports  me 
Than  all  the  actions  that  I  have  foregone. 
Or  futurely  can  cope. 

T.N.K.  9.)  VII   331. 


Aa/.}  THE  Tll'O  NOBLE  KIXSMEN.  \Sccn.  F, 

First  Queen.  The  more  proclaiming 

Our  suit  shall  be  neglected  :  when  her  arms, 
Able  to  lock  Jove  from  a  synod,  shall 
,Ey  warranting  moonlight  corslet  thee,  O,  when 
.Her  twinning  cherries  shall  their  sweetness  fall 
Upon  thy  tasteful  lips,  what  wilt  thou  think 
Of  rotten  kings  or  blubber'd  queens  ?  what  care 
For  what  thou  feel'st  not,  what  thou  feel'st  being  able 
To  make  Mars  spurn  his  drum  ?     O,  if  thou  couch 
But  one  night  with  her,  every  hour  in't  will 
Take  hostage  of  thee  for  a  hundred,  and 
Thou  shalt  reniember  nothing  more  than  what 
That  banquet  bids  thee  to  ! 

Hip.  Though  much  unlike  \^I\ne€ling, 

Tou  should  be  so  transported,  as  much  soriy 
I  should  be  such  a  suitor ;  yet  I  think, 
Did  I  not  by  th'  abstaining  of  my  joy, 
AVhich  breeds  a  deeper  longing,  cure  their  surfeit 
That  craves  a  present  medicine,  I  should  pluck 
All  ladies'  scandal  on  me  :  therefore,  sir, 
As  I  shall  here  make  trial  of  my  prayers, 
Either  presuming  them  to  have  some  force, 
Or  sentencing  for  aye  their  vigor  dumb. 
Prorogue  this  business  we  are  going  about,  and  hang 
Tour  shield  afore  your  heart,  about  that  neck 
AVhich  is  my  fee,  and  which  I  freely  lend 
To  do  these  poor  queens  service. 

All  the  Ou€£7is.  [to  Eviilial  O,  help  now  ! 
Our  cause  cries  for  your  knee. 

Eiiii.  If  you  grant  not  [Kneeling. 

J\Iy  sister  her  petition,  in  that  force. 
With  that  celerity  and  nature,  which 
She  makes  it  in,  from  henceforth  I'll  not  dare 
To  ask  you  any  thing,  nor  be  so  hardy 
JEver  to  take  a  husband. 

Thes.  Pray,  stand  up:  [tiip.  aiid Eniil.  ?-ise. 

I  am  entreating  of  myself  to  do 
That  which  you  kneel  to  have  me. —  Pirithous, 
lead  on  the  bride  :  get  you  and  pray  the  gods 
Tor  success  and  return  ;  omit  not  any  thing 
In  the  pretended  celebration. —  Queens, 
Follow  your  soldier. —  [ToArtesius]  As  before,  hence  you, 

VII.  352.]  [t.n.k.  10, 


^ ^t  /.]  THE  TWO  NOni. E  KISSMEN.  [  . . , ,/ //. 

And  at  the  banks  of  Aulis  mcrt  us  with 

The  forces  you  can  raise,  wIrtc  nvc  shall  find 

The  moiety  of  a  number,  for  a  l)usiness 

More  big^^er-look'd.—  Since  that  our  theme  Ls  haste. 

I  stamp  this  kiss  upon  thy  currant  lij) ;  ( AV.v.wf  llippolvta. 

Sweet,  keep  it  as  my  token. —  Set  you  forward  ; 

F'or  I  will  see  you  gone. —  \l'.xit  Artcsius. 

Farewell,  my  beauteous  sister. —  IMrithous, 

Keep  the  feast  full  ;  bate  not  an  hour  on'l. 

Pir-  Sir. 

I'll  follow  you  at  heels  :  the  feast's  solemnity 
Shall  want  till  your  return. 

riu's.  Cousin,  I  charj;e  you 

Budge  not  from  Athens  ;  we  shall  i)e  returning' 
Ere  you  can  end  this  feast,  of  which,  I  pray  you, 
Make  no  abatement.     Once  more,  farewell  all. 
[Hippo/yfa,  Emilia,  Pirithous,  J/yffun,  liov,  Xyniphx, 
and  Attendants  enter  the  temple. 

First  Quec7i.  Thus  dost  thou  still  make  good 
The  tongue  o'  the  world. 

Sec.    Queen,  And  earn'st  a  deity 

Equal  with  Mars. 

Third  Queen.  If  not  above  him;  for 
Thou,  being  but  mortal,  mak'st  affections  bend 
To  godlike  honors  ;  they  themselves,  some  say. 
Groan  under  such  a  mastery. 

Thes.  As  we  are  men, 

Thus  should  we  do;  being  sensually  subdu'd. 
We  lose  our  human  title.  Good  chrtr.  ladies ! 
Now  turn  we  towards  your  comforts.  [F/ourisft.  Fxettnl, 

Scene  II.      Thebes.      The  court  of  the  palaee. 
Enter  Palamon  <;//</ .AkflTR. 

Arc.   Dear  Palamon,  dearer  in  love  than  l)lood. 
And  our  prime  cousin,  yet  unharden'd  in 
The  crimes  of  nature  ;  let  us  leave  the  city 
Thebes,  and  the  templings  in't.  before  we  further 
Sully  our  gloss  of  youth  : 
And  here  to  keep  in  alistinence  we  shame 
As  in  incontinence  ;  for  not  lo  swim 
r  th'  aid  o'  the  current,  wtic  almost  to  sink. 

T.N.K.  II.]  VII.    353. 


Aci/.l  THE  TWO  KOBLE  KINSMEN,  ^Scene  II. 

At  least  to  frustrate  striving ;  and  to  follow 
The  common  stream,  'twould  bring  us  to  an  eddy 
Where  we  should  turn  or  drown  ;  if  labor  through. 
Our  gain  but  life  and  weakness. 

Pal.  Your  advice 

Is  cried  up  with  example  :  what  strange  ruins, 
Since  first  we  went  to  school,  may  we  perceive 
Walking  in  Thebes  !  scars  and  bare  weeds, 
The  gain  o'  the  martialist,  who  did  propound 
To  his  bold  ends  honor  and  golden  ingots, 
AVhich,  though  he  won,  he  had  not  ;  and  now  flurted 
By  peace,  for  whom  he  fought  !  Who,  then,  shall  offer 
To  Mars's  so-scorn'd  altar?  I  do  bleed 
When  such  I  meet,  and  wish  great  Juno  would 
Resume  her  ancient  fit  of  jealousy. 
To  get  the  soldier  work,  that  peace  might  purge 
For  her  repletion,  and  retain  anew 
Her  charitable  heart,  now  hard,  and  harsher 
Than  strife  or  war  could  be. 

Arc.  Are  you  not  out  ? 

]\Ieet  you  no  ruin  but  the  soldier  in 
The  cranks  and  turns  of  Thebes  ?  You  did  begin 
As  if  you  met  decays  of  many  kinds  : 
Perceive  you  none  that  do  arouse  your  pity, 
Eut  th'  unconsider'd  soldier  ? 

Pal.  Yes  ;  I  pity 

Decays  where'er  I  find  them  ;  but  such  most 
That,'  sweating  in  an  honorable  toil. 
Are  paid  with  ice  to  cool  'em. 

Arc.  'Tis  not  this 

I  did  begin  to  speak  of  ;  this  is  virtue 
Of  no  respect  in  Thebes  :  I  spake  of  Thebes, 
How  dangerous,  if  we  will  keep  our  honors, 
It  is  for  our  residing  ;  where  every  evil 
Hath  a  good  color;  where  every  seeming  good's 
A  certain  evil ;  where  not  to  be  even  jump 
As  they  are  here,  were  to  be  strangers,  and 
Such  things  to  be  mere  monsters. 

Pal.  'Tis  in  our  power  — 

Unless  we  fear  that  apes  can  tutor  's  —  to 
Be  masters  of  our  manners  :  what  need  I 
Affect  another's  gait,  which  is  not  catching 

VII.  354.  [t.n.k.  12. 


4c(/.]  THE  TWO  SOliLE  KISSMI  .    .  ..I. 

Where  there  is  faith  ?  or  to  l)c  fond  upon 

Anothers  way  of  speech,  when  by  ruitjc  own 

I  may  be  reasonably  conceiv'd,  savd  too. 

Speaking  it  truly  ?  why  am  I  bound 

By  any  generous  bonti  to  follow  him 

Follows  his  tailor,  iiaply  so  lung  until 

The  follow'd  make  i)ursuit  ?  or  let  inc  know 

Why  mine  own  barber  is  unblest,  with  him 

My  poor  chin  too,  for  'tis  not  scissar'd  just 

To  such  a  favorite's  glass  ?  what  canon  is  there 

That  does  command  my  rapier  from  my  hip, 

To  dangle't  in  my  hand,  or  to  go  tip-toe 

Before  the  street  be  foul  ?  Eithei  I  am 

The  fore-horse  in  the  team,  or  I  am  none 

That  draw  i'  the  sequent  trace.      These  poor  slight  sores 

Need  not  a  plaintain  ;  that  which  rips  my  bosom, 

Almost  to  th'  heart,  "s, — 

Arc.  Our  uncle  Creon. 

Pal.  He, 

A  most  unbounded  tyrant,  whose  successes 
Make  heaven  unfear'd,  and  villainy  assur'd 
Beyond  its  power  there's  nothing;  almost  puts 
Faith  in  a  fever,  and  deifies  alone 
Voluble  chance  ;  who  only  attributes 
The  faculties  of  other  instruments 
To  his  own  nerves  and  act;  commands  men's  scnice 
And  what  they  win  in't,  boot  and  glory  too; 
That  fears  not  to  do  harm;  good  dares  not;  let 
The  blood  of  mine  that's  sib  to  him  be  suck'd 
From  me  with  leeches  ;  let  them  break  and  fall 
Off  me  with  that  corruption  ! 

Arc.  Clear-spirited  cousin. 

Let's  leave  his  court,  that  we  may  nothing  share 
Of  his  loud  infamy  ;  for  our  milk 
Will  relish  of  the  pasture,  and  we  must 
Be  vile  or  disobedient;  not  his  kinsmen 
In  blood,  unless  in  quality. 

Pal.  Nothing  truer: 

I  think  the  echoes  of  his  shames  ha\e  dcaf'd 
The  ears  of  heavenly  justice  :  willows"  cries 
Descend  again  into  their  throats,  and  have  not 
Due  audience  of  tiiegods. —  X'alcnus  ! 

T.N.ic.  13.)  VII.  35y 


^ct  I.^  TUE  Tiro  XOBLE  KINSMEN.  [Scene//. 


Etite?-  Valerius. 

Val.  The  king  calls  for  \  ou  ;  )  et  be  ieaclen-footed. 
Till  his  great  rage  be  off  him  :  Phcebus  when 
He  broke  his  whipstock,  and  exclaim'd  against 
The  horses  of  the  sun,  but  whisper'd,    to 
The  loudness  of  his  fury. 

Pal.  Small  winds  shake  him: 

But  what's  the  matter  ?  [sent 

Ft^/.  Theseus — who  where  he  threats   appals  —  hath 
Deadly  defiance  to  him,  and  pronounces 
Huin  to  Thebes  ;  who  is  at  hand  to  seal 
The  promise  of  his  wrath, 

Aj-c.  Let  him  approach  : 

But  that  we  fear  the  gods  in  him,  he  brings  not 
A  jot  of  terror  to  us  :  yet  what  man 
Thirds  his  own  worth  —  the  case  is   each  of  ours  — • 
AVhen  that  his  action's  dregg'd  with  mind  assur'd 
""  ris  bad  he  goes  about  ? 

Pal.  Leave  that  unreason'd  ; 

Our  services  stand  now  for  Thebes,  not  Creon  : 
Yet,  to  be  neutral  to  him  were  dishonor. 
Rebellious  to  oppose  ;  therefore  we  must 
AVith  him  stand  to  the  mercy  of  our  fate, 
AVho  hath  bounded  our  last  minute. 

Arc.  So  we  must.— 

Is't  said  this  war's  afoot?  or  it  shall  be, 
On  fail  of  some  condition  ? 

Val.  'Tis  in  motion  ; 

Th'  intelligence  of  state  came  in  the  instant 
^Vith  the  defter. 

Pal.  Let's  to  the  king ;  who,  were  he 

A  quarter  carrier  of  that  honor  which 
His  enemy  comes  in,  the  blood  we  venture 
Should  be'  as  for  our  health  ;  which  were  not  spent, 
Hather  laid  out  for  purchase  :  but,  alas, 
Our  hands  advanc'd  before  our  hearts,  what  will 
The  fall  o'  the  stroke  do  damage  } 

Arc.  Let  th'  event. 

That  never-erring  arbitrator,  tell  us 
AVhen  we  know  all  ourselves  ;  and  let  us  follow 
The  becking  of  our  chance.  {Exeuftt. 

VII.  3s6.  [t.n.k.  14. 


Act/.]  TUfC  TWO  NOBLE  K'lNSMKX.  li/.#///. 

SCENK  III.  licforc  thegitUsof  Atfuns, 

Enter  riKiTHous,  IIiim'olv r a,  nW Emilia. 

Pir.   No  furtlicr ! 

^i^P'  Sir,  farewell :  repeat  mv  wishes 

To  our  great  lord,  of  whose  success  I  dare  not 
Make  any  timorous  (juesiion  ;  )et  I  wish  liirn 
Excess  aiul  overllow  (jf  power,  an't  niij^hl  1)^. 
To  dare  ill-dealing  fortune.     .Speed  lo  him; 
Store  never  hurts  good  governors. 

P^*"'  Though  I  know 

His  ocean  needs  not  my  poor  dr«)ps.  \tt  ihty 
Must  yield  their  tribute' there.     My  precious' maid. 
Those  best  affecti(jns  that  the  heavens  infuse 
In  their  best-temjier'd  pieces,  keep  enthron'd 
In  your  dear  heart ! 

Emi.  Th.mks,  sir.     KemrndKT  mc 

To  our  all-royal  brother  ;  Un  whose  speed 
The  great  Bellona  I'll  solicit ;  and 
Since,  in  our  terrene  stale,  petitions  are  not 
Without  gifts  understood.  Ill  offer  to  her 
What  I  shall  be  advis'd  she  likes.     Our  hearts 
Are  in  his  army,  in  his  tent. 

Hi  p.  In's  bosom. 

We  have  been  soldiers,  and  we  cannot  weep 
When  our  friends  don  their  helms,  or  put  to  sea. 
Or  tell  of  babes  broach'd  on  the  lance,  or  w«)mcn 
That  ha\e  sod  their  infatits  in  —  and  aflcre.it  t;  »  m  — 
The  brine  they  wept  at  killing  \\w',  then,  ;t 
You  stay  to  see  of  us  such  spinsters.  \vc 
Should  hold  you  here  for  ever. 

Pzr.  Peace  t)c  to  you. 

As  I  pursue  this  war!  which  shall  i)e  then 
lieyond  further  reijuiring.  \ExiU 

Em/.  How  his  longini; 

Follows  his  friend  !  since  his  deparl.  his  spoits. 
Though  craving  seriousness  and  skill,  pass'd  slightly 
His  careless  execution,  where  nor  gain 
Made  him  regard,  or  loss  consider;  but 
Playing  one  business  in  his  hand,  another 
Directing  in  his  head,  his  ni!''  --"-••  f()ual 

T.N.K.   IS-l  ^  '  ' 


Act  /.]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  [Sceve  UL 

To  these  so  differing  twins.     Have  you  observ'd  him 
Since  our  great  lord  departed  ? 

Hip.  With  much  labor; 

And  I  did  love  him  for't.     The}'  two  have  cabin  d 
In  many  as  dangerous  as  poor  a  corner, 
Peril  and  want  contending ;  they  have  skiff'd 
Torrents,  whose  roaring  tyranny  and  power 
r  the  least  of  these  was  dreadful;  and  they  have 
Fought  out  together,  where  death's  self  was  lodg'd  ; 
Yet  faith  hath  brought  them  off.     Their  knot  of  love 
Tied,  weav'd,  entangled,  with  so  true,  so  long, 
And  with  a  tinger  of  so  deep  a  cunning, 
May  be  out- worn,  never  undone.     I  think 
Theseus  cannot  be  umpire  to  himself, 
Cleaving  his  conscience  into  twain,  and  doing 
Each  side  like  justice,  which  he  loves  best. 

E))u'.  Doubtless 

There  is  a  best,  and  reason  has  no  manners 
To  say  it  is  not  you.     I  was  acquainted 
Once  with  a  time,  when  I  enjoy'd  a  playfellow  ; 
You  were  at  wars  when  she  the  grave  enrich'd, 
\Vho  made  too  proud  the  bed,  took  leave  o'  the  moor     '■ 
Which  then  look'd  pale  at  parting  —  when  our  count 
Was  each  eleven. 

Hip.  'Twas  Flavina. 

Emi.  Yes. 

You  talk  of  Pirithous'  and  Theseus'  love : 
Theirs  has  more  ground,  is  more  maturely  season'd. 
More  buckled  with  strong  judgment,  and  their  needs 
The  one  of  th'  other  may  be  said  to  water 
Their  intertangled  roots  of  love ;  but  I, 
And  she  I  sigh  and  spoke  of,  were  things  innocent, 
Lov'd  for  we  did,  and  like  the  elements 
That  know  not  what  nor  why,  yet  do  effect 
Rare  issues  by  their  operance,  our  souls 
Did  so  to  one  another  :  what  she  lik'd 
Was  then  of  me  approv'd  ;  what  not,  condemn 'd. 
No  more  arraignment ;  the  flower  that  I  would  pluck 
And  put  between  my  breasts  —  then  but  beginning 
To  swell  about  the  blossom  —  she  would  long 
Till  she  had  such  another,  and  commit  it 
To  the  like  innocent  cradle,  where,  phenix-like, 

VII.  358.  [t.n.k.  16 


AcU:\  THE   TH'O  SOBLi:  KlSsytRS.  'V..*.;- 

They  elite!  in  pcrfuinc  ;  on  my  head  no  loy 
But  was  her  pattern  ;  her  affections  —  prcily. 
Though  happily  her  careless  wear  —  1  f«j|low'd 
For  my  most  serious  decking:  had  mine  ear 
Stol'n  some  new  air,  or  at  adventure  huninrd  one 
From  musical  coinage,  why,  it  was  a  note 
Whereon  her  spirits  wouUrsojourn,— rather  dwell  on. 
And  sing  it  in  her  slumbers  :  this  rehearsal  — 
Which,  every  innocent  wots  well,  comes  in 
Like  old  importment's  bastard  —has  this  end. 
That  the  true  love  'tween  maid  and  maid  may  be 
More  than  in  sex  dividual. 

Hip.  You're  out  of  breath  ; 

And  this  high-speeded  pace  is  but  to  say. 
That  you  shall  never,  like  the   maid  Flavina, 
Love  any  that's  call'd  man. 

Emi.  I'm  sure  I  siiall  not. 

Hip.   Now,  alack,  weak  sister. 
I  must  no  more  believe  thee  in  this  j)oint  — 
Though  in't  I  know  thou  dost  believe  thyself  — 
Than  I  will  trust  a  sickly  appetite. 
That  loathes  even  as  it  longs.     But.  sure,  my  sister. 
If  I  were  ripe  for  your  persuasion,  you 
Have  said  enough  to  shake  me  from  the  arm 
Of  the  all-noble  Theseus  ;  for  whose  fortuiK.^ 
I  will  now  in  and  kneel,  with  great  assurance 
That  we,  more  than  his  Pirithous,  possess 
The  high  throne  in  his  heart. 

Eiiii.  I  am  not 

Against  your  faith  ;  yet  I  continue  mine.  \Exeunt. 

Scene  IV.     A  field  before  Thebes.  Peitii  bodies  lying  on 
the  ground;  among  them  Palamon  and  ArciTK. 

A  battle  struck  within  ;  then  a  retreat ;  then  a  fiouriih. 
Then  enter  THESEUS  {7>ictor).  Herald.  •/«</  At- 
tendants.   The  three  Queens  meet  Vw  F.SKL'S, 
and  fall  on  their  faces  before  him. 

First  Queen.  To  thee  no  star  be  dark  ! 

Sec.  Oueen.  Both  heaven  and  earth 

Friend  thee  for  ever! 
r.N.K.  17.]  VII.  j5^ 


Aci/.}  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  \Scene  IV, 

Third  Queen.  All  the  good  that  may 

Be  wish'd  upon  thy  head,  I  cry  Amen  to"t ! 

Thes.  Th'    impartial   gods,    who    from    the     mounted 
heavens 
View  us  their  mortal  herd,  behold  who  err, 
And  in  their  time  chastise.  Go,  and  find  out 
The  bones  of  your  dead  lords,  and  honor  them 
With  treble  ceremony  :  rather  than  a  gap 
Should  be  in  their  dear  rites,  we  would  supply't. 
But  those  we  will  depute  which  shall  invest 
You  in  your  dignities,  and  even  each  thing 
Our  haste  does  leave  imperfect.  So,  adieu, 
And  heaven's  good  eyes  look  on  you  !     \Exeu7it  Queens, 

What  are  those? 

Herald.  Men  of  great  quality,  as  may  be  judg'd 
By  their  appointment  ;  some  of  Thebes  have  told's 
They're  sisters'  children,  nephews  to  the  king. 

Thes.  Byth'  helm  of  Mars,  I  saw  them  in  the  war  — 
Like  to  a  pair  of  lions  smear'd  with  prey  — 
Make  lanes   in  troops  aghast :  I  fix'd  my  note 
Constantly  on  them  ;  for  they  were  a  mark 
Worth  a  god's  view.    What  was't  that  prisoner  told  me 
When  I  inquir'd  their  names  .^ 

Herald.  We  learn  they're  call'd 

Arcite  and  Palamon. 

Thes.  'Tis  right ;  those,  those. 

They  are  not  dead.'* 

Herald.  Nor  in  a  state  of  life  :  had  they  been  taken 
When  their  last  hurts  were  given,  'twas  possible 
They  might  have  been  recover'd  ;  yet  they  breathe. 
And  have  the  name  of  men. 

Thes.  Then  like  men  use  'em  : 

The  very  lees  of  such,  miUions  of  rates 
Exceed  the  wme  of  others  :  all  our  surgeons 
Convent  in  their  behoof ;  our  richest  balms. 
Rather  than  niggard,  waste :  their  lives  concern  us 
]\Iuch  more  than  Thebes  is  worth  :  rather  than  have   *em 
Freed  of  this  plight,  and  in  their  morning  state, 
Sound  and  at  liberty,  I  would  'em  dead  ; 
But,  forty  thousand  fold,  we  had  rather  have  'em 
Prisoners  to  us  than  death.     Bear  'em  speedily 
From  our  kind  air,  —  to  them  unkind, —  and  minister 

VII.  360.  [t.k.k.  i& 


^ci /.]  THE  TWO  SOni.h:  KINSMEN.  (Sf #■#  K 

What  man  to  man  may  do  ;  for  our  sake,  niorcr 
Since  I  have  known  hj^ht's  fury,  friends'  Uchcsls, 
Love's  provocations,  zeal  in  a  mistress'  task. 
Desire  of  Uberty.  a  fever,  machu-ss. 
'T  hath  set  a  mark  which  nature  could  not  reach  to 
Without  some  imposition,  sickness  in  will. 
Or  wrestling  strength  in  reason.  For  our  love. 
And  great  Apollo's  mercy,  all  ourhest 
Their  best  skill  tender  !  —  Lead  into  the  city  ; 
Where,  having  hound  things  scatter'd,  we  will  po£t 
To  Athens  'fore  our  army.  [F/oiiris/i.  /'.\,unt; .  U/,miantt 
carrrtNtC  I\t/iitnon  nnd  Arciff, 

Scene  V.  Another  part  of  the  s,i>nt'.  more  remote  from 
Thebes. 

Ejifer  the  three  Queens  7*;'////  the  hearses  of  their  husbunds 
in  a  funeral  solemnity,  &»c. 

Song. 

Urns  and  odors  bring  away  ! 

Vapors,  sighs,  darken  the  day  ! 
Our  dole  more  deadly  looks  than  dying; 

Balms,  and  gums,  and  heavy  cheers. 

Sacred  vials  fill'd  with  tears. 
And  clamors  through  the  wild  air  nviniTf 

Come,  all  sad  and  solemn  shows. 
That  are  quick-ey'd  pleasure's  foes  : 
We  convent  naught  else  but  woes  : 
We  convent,  ^.c 

Third  Queen.  This  funeral  path  brings  to  your  house- 
hold's grave  : 
Joy  seize  on  you  again  !    Peace  sleep  with  him  ! 

Sec.  Queen.  And  this  to  yours. 

FirsT(2neen.  Yours  this  way.    Heat 

A  thousaTid  differing  ways  to  one  sure  end. 

Third  (lueen.  This  world's  a  city  full  -'  ^tr  .v  n 
And  death's  the  market-place,  where  . 


k\(  II 


19-1 


VII. 


Act//.]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  \_Scene  I. 

ACT  II. 

bCENE  I.  Athens.    A  garden,  luith  a  castle  in  the  back 
groiifid. 

Enter  Gaoler  and  Wooer. 

Gaoler.  I  may  depart  with  little,  while  I  live ;  some- 
thing I  may  cast  to  you,  not  much.  Alas,  the  prison  I 
keep,  though  it  be  for  great  ones,  yet  they  seldom  conie  : 
before  one  salmon,  you  shall  take  a  number  of  minnows. 
I  am  given  out  to  be  better  lined  than  it  can  appear  to 
me  report  is  a  true  speaker:  I  would  I  were  really  that  I 
am  delivered  to  be.  Marry,  what  I  have  —  be  it  what  it 
will  —  I  will  assure  upon  my  daughter  at  the  day  of  my 
death. 

Wooer.  Sir,  I  demand  no  more  than  your  own  offer  ; 
and  I  will  estate  your  daughter  in  what  I  have  promised. 

Gaoler.  Well,  we  will  talk  more  of  this  when  the  so- 
lemnity is  past.  But  have  you  a  full  promise  of  her.-* 
when  that  shall  be  seen,  I  tender  my  consent. 

Wooer.  I  have,  sir.     Here  she  comes. 

Enter  Gaoler's  Daughter  ivith  strewings. 

Gaoler.  Your  friend  and  I  have  chanced  to  name  you 
here,  upon  the  old  business  ;  but  no  more  of  that  now : 
so  soon  as  the  court-hurry  is  over,  we  will  have  an  end  of 
it :  i'  the  mean  time,  look  tenderly  to  the  two  prisoners  ; 
I  can  tell  you  they  are  princes. 

Daitgh.  These  strewings  are  for  their  chamber.  'Tis 
pity  they  are  in  prison,  and  'twere  pity  they  should  be 
out.  I  do  think  they  have  patience  to  make  any  adver- 
sity ashamed  :  the  prison  itself  is  proud  of  'em  ;  and  they 
have  all  the  world  in  their  chamber. 

Gaoler.  They  are  famed  to  be  a  pair  of  absolute  men. 

Dangh.  By  my  troth,  I  think  fame  but  stammers  'em  ; 
they  stand  a  grise  above  the  reach  of  report. 

Gaoler.  I  heard  them  reported  in  the  battle  to  be  the 
only  doers. 

baicgh.  Nay,  most  likely  ;  for  they  are  noble  sufferers. 

I    marvel  how  they  would   have  looked,   had    they  been 

victors,  that  with  such  a  constant  nobility  enforce  a  freedom 

VII.  362.  [t.n.k.  20. 


Ac/  //.]  7V/£   THO  NOBLE  K/NSMt.W  \  '.,■/  /. 

out  of  bondage,  making  miser)-  their  mirth,  aud  affliction 

a  toy  to  jest  at. 

Gaoler.  Do  they  so  ? 

Daugh.  It  seems   to  me  they  have  no  more  sense  of 
their  captivity  than  I  of   ruUng  Athens:   tliry  rai  wril. 
look   merrily,  iHscourse   of   many  things,  but   :      " 
their   own    restraint    and    disasters.       Yet    s 
<livided   sigh,  martyred  as 'twere-  i' the  dcln- 
break  from  one  of  them  ;  when  the  other  pr* 
it  so  sweet  a  reljuke.  that  I  could  wish   mys<  •;  .i  -.^.i  ... 
be  so  chid,  or  at  least  a  sigher  to  be  comforted. 

Wooer.  I  never  saw  'em. 

Gaoler.  The  duke  himself  came  privately  in  the  night, 
and  so  did  they  :  what  the  reason  of  it  is,  I  know  not. 

Palamon  and  Akcitk  appear  at  a  Ti'tntitnu  of  Sk.  tiru'er. 

Look,  yonder  they  are,-*  that's  Arcite  looks  out. 

Dangh.  No,   sir,  no  ;    that's    Palamon  :    Arcite  is  the 
lower  of  the  twain  ;  you  may  perceive  a  ^)art  of  him. 

Gaoler.  Go  to!   leave  your  pointing:   they  would  not 
make  us  their  object :  out  of  their  sight  ! 

Daug/i.  It  is  a  holiday  to  look  on  them.     Lord,   ihe 
difference  of  men  I  [Exit  wit  It  Gaoler  and  li'ik*/'r. 

Pal.  How  do  you,  noble  cousin  ? 

Are.  How  do  you,  sir.^ 

Pal.  Why,  strong  enough  to  laugh  at  misery. 
And  beir  the  chance  of  war  yet.     We  are  prisoners 
I  fear  for  ever,  cousin. 

Arc.  I  believe  it ; 

And  to  that  destiny  have  patiently 
Laid  up  my  hour  to  come. 

/\il,  O,  cousin  Arcite, 

Where  is  Thebes  now  ?  w  here  is  our  noble  country  > 
Where  are  our  friends  and  kindreds.^     Never  more 
Must  we  behold  those  comforts ;  never  see 
The  hardy  youths  strive  for  the  ganies  of  honor. 
Hung  with  the  painted  favors  of  iheir  ladies. 
Like  tall  ships  under  sail ;  then  start  am«>ngst  'em. 
And,  as  an  east  wind,  leave  *em  .ill  behind  us 
Like  lazy  clouds,  whilst  Talamon  and  .-Xrcitc, 
Even  in  the  wagging  of  .i  w-anton  leg. 
Outstripp'd  the  peoples  praises,  won  the  garland*, 

x.N.K.  at.)  Vll.  36> 


Act  II. '\  THE  TIVO  NOBLE  KIXSMEA'.  {Scene  L 

Ere  they  have  time  to  wish  'em  ours.     O,  never 
Shall  we  two  exercise,  like  twins  of  honor, 
Our  arms  again,  and  feel  our  tiery  horses 
Like  proud  seas  under  us  !     Our  good  swords  now,— 
Better  the  red-ey'd  god  of  war  ne'er  ware, — 
Ravish'd  our  sides,  like  age,  must  run  to  rust. 
And  deck  the  temples  of  those  gods  that  hate  us  ; 
These  hands  shall  never  draw  em  out  like  lightning. 
To  blast  whole  armies,  more ! 

Arc.  No,  Palanion, 

Those  hopes  are  prisoners  with  us  :  here  we  are. 
And  here  the  graces  of  our  youths  must  wither. 
Like  a  too-timely  spring  ;  here  age  must  find  us. 
And,  which  is  heaviest,  Palamon,  unmarried  ; 
The  sweet  embraces  of  a  loving  wife, 
Loaden  with  kisses,  arm'd  with  thousand  Cupids, 
Shall  never  clasp  our  necks  ;  no  issue  know  us, 
No  figures  of  ourselves  shall  we  e'er  see, 
To  glad  our  age,  and  like  young  eagles  teach  'em 
Boldly  to  gaze  against  bright  arms,  and  say 
"  Remember  what  your  fathers  were,  and  conquer  !  " 
The  fair-ey'd  maids  shall  weep  our  banishments, 
And  in  their  songs  curse  ever-blinded  Fortune, 
Till  she  for  shame  see  what  a  wrong  she  has  done 
To  youth  and  nature  :  this  is  all  our  world  ; 
We  shall  know  nothing  here  but  one  another; 
Hear  nothing  but  the  clock  that  tells  our  woes; 
The  vine  shall  grow,  but  we  shall  never  see  it ; 
Summer  shall  come,  and  with  her  all  delights. 
But  dead-cold  winter  must  inhabit  here  still. 

Pal.  'Tis  too  true,  Arcite.     To  our  Theban  hounds. 
That  shook  the  aged  forest  with  their  echoes, 
No  more  now  must  we  holla  ;  no  more  shake 
Our  pointed  javelins,  whilst  the  angry  swine 
Flies  like  a  Parthian  quiver  from  our  rages. 
Stuck  with  our  well-steel'd  darts  :  all  valiant  uses  — 
The  food  and  nourishment  of  noble  minds  — 
In  us  two  here  shall  perish;  we  shall  die  — 
Which  is  the  curse  of  honor  —  lastly. 
Children  of  grief  and  ignorance. 

Arc.  Yet,  cousin. 

Even  from  the  bottom  of  these  miseries, 

VII.    :!64.  [T.N.K.  22, 


Act  n.\  THE  TWO  SOPl.E  KIS'SMEN.  \&*mt  K 

From  all  that  fortune  can  inflict  upon  us, 

I  see  two  comforts  ri>.ini^.  two  mere  blessinf^. 

If  the  gods  jjlease  to  hohl  here, —  a  brave  patience; 

And  the  enjoying  of  our  griefs  together. 

Whilst  Palamon  is  with  ine,  lei  me  ()erish 

If  I  think  this  our  prison  ! 

Pal.  Certainly 

'Tis  a  main  goodness,  cousin,  that  nm  iMiumrs 
Were  twin'd  together  :  'tis  most  true,  two  souls 
Put  in  two  noble  bodies,  let  'em  suffer 
The  gall  of  hazard,  so  they  grow  together. 
Will  never  sink  ;  they  must  not ;  say  they  could, 
A  willing  man  dies  sleeping,  and  all's  done. 

Arc.  Shall  we  make  worthy  uses  of  this  place. 
That  all  men  hate  so  much  ? 

Pal.  How,  gentle  cousin? 

Arc.  Let's  think  this  jirison  holy  sancluar)'. 
To  keep  us  from  corruption  of  worse  men: 
We're  young,  and  yet  desire  the  ways  of  honor  ; 
That,  liberty  and  common  conversation. 
The  poison  of  pure  spirits,  might,  like  women. 
Woo  us  to  wander  from.     What  worthy  blessing 
Can  be,  but  our  imaginations 
May  make  it  ours?  and  here  being  thus  together. 
We  are  an  endless  mine  to  one  another; 
We're  one  another's  wife,  ever  begetting 
New  births  of  love;  we're   father,  friends,  arnn.unf.mre; 
We  are,  in  one  another,  families  ; 
I  am  your  heir,  and  you  are  mine  :  this  plac  • 
Is  our  inheritance  ;  no  hard  oppress<»r 
Dare  take  tliis  from  us:  here,  with  a  little  patience. 
We  shall  live  long,  and  loving:  no  surfeits  seek  us; 
The  hand  of  war  hurts  none  here,  nor  the  seas 
Swallow  their  youth.     Were  we  at  liberty, 
A  wife  might  part  us  lawfully,  or  business; 
Quarrels  consume  us  ;  envy  of  ill  men 
(}rave  our  acquaintance  ;  I  might  sicken,  cousin. 
Where  you  should  never  know  it.  and  so  perish 
Without  your  noble  hand  to  close  mine  ryes. 
Or  prayers  to  the  gcds :  a  thousand  chances. 
Were  we  from  hence,  would  sever  us. 

p^^j  Vou'x  e  innde  mC  — 

T.N   K     21.1 


Act  IT."]  THE  Tiro  NOiBLE  KINSMEN.  [Scene. 

I  thank  you,  cousin  Arcite — almost  wanton 
With  my  captivity  :  what  a  miser}' 
It  is  to  Hve  abroad,  and  every  wheie  ! 
'Tis  Hke  a  beast,  methinks  :  I  find  the  court  here, 
I'm  sure,  a  more  content ;  and  all  those  pleasure 
That  woo  the  wills  of  men  to  vanity 
I  see  through  now  ;  and  am  sufficient 
To  tell  the  world  'tis  but  a  gaudy  shadow. 
That  old  Time,  as  he  passes  by,  takes  with  him. 
What  had  we  been,  old  in  the  court  of  Creon, 
AVhere  sin  is  justice,  lust  and  ignorance 
The  virtues  of  the  great  ones  ?  Cousin  Arcite, 
Had  not  the  loving  gods  found  this  place  for  us, 
AVe  had  died  as  they  do,  ill  old  men,  unv/ept. 
And  had  their  epitaphs,  the  people's  curses. 
Shall  I  say  more  ? 

Arc.  I'd  hear  you  still. 

Pal.  Ye  shall. 

Is  there  record  of  any  two  that  Icv'd 
Better  than  we  do,  Arcite  ? 

Arc.  Sure,  there  cannot. 

PaL   I  do  not  think  it  possible  our  friendship 
Should  ever  leave  us. 

Arc.  Till  our  deaths  it  cannot; 

And  after  death  our  spirits  shall  be  led 
To  those  that  love  eternally.     Speak  on,  sir. 

Enter  EMILIA  a7id  Waiting-woman  be'tow^ 

Emi.  This  garden  has  a  world  of  pleasures  in't. 
What  flower  is  this  ? 

\Vait.~w.  'Tis  call'd  narcissus,  madam. 

Emi.   That  was  a  fair  boy  certain,  but  a  fool 
To  love  himself :  were  there  not  maids  enough  } 

Arc,  Pray,  forward. 

Pal.  Yes. 

Emi.  Or  were  they  all  hard-hearted  ? 

V/ait.-w.  They  could  not  be  to  one  so  fair, 

Emi,  Thou  wouldst  not. 

Waif,~7V.  I  think  I  should  not,  madam, 

Emi.  That's  a  good  wench  I 

But  take  heed  to  your  kindness  though  ! 

IVait.-w,  Why,  madam? 

VII.  3«6.  [t.n.k.  24 


Act  II.-\  THE  TWO  SOBLE  KISSMRN. 

Enii.   Men  are  mad  tiling's. 

Arc.  Will  ye  jjo  forward,  cousin  ? 

Emi.  Canst  not  thou  work  such  Mowers  in  silk.wtn.  h  > 

\Vait.-7u. 

Emi.  I'll  have  a  gown  full  of  'em  ;  and  of  lhes<  . 
This  is  a  pretty  color  :  wiil't  not  do 
Rarely  upon  a  skirt,  wench  ? 

Wait.-zu.  Dainty,  madam. 

Arc.  Cousin,  cousin  I  how  do  you,  sir  ?  why,  Palamon  ! 

Pal.  Never  till  now  I  was  in  prison,  Arcitc 

Arc.  Why,  what's  the  matter,  man  ? 

Pal.  Behold,  and  wonder! 

By  heaven,  she  is  a  goddess  ! 

Arc.  Hal 

Pal.  Do  reverence  ; 

She  is  a  goddess,  Arcite  ! 

Emi.  Of  all  Mowers, 

Methinks,  a  rose  is  best. 

Wait.-7u.  Why,  gentle  madam  ? 

Emi.   It  is  the  very  emblem  of  a  maid  : 
For  when  the  west  wind  courts  her  gentl\ . 
How  modestly  she  blows,  and  |)aints  the  sun 
With  her  chaste  blushes  !  when  the  north  comes  near  her. 
Rude  and-  impatient,  thrn.  like  chastity. 
She  locks  her  beauties  in  her  bud  again, 
And  leaves  him  to  base  briers. 

IVait.-w.  Yet,  good  madam. 

Sometimes  her  modesty  will  blow  so  far 
She  falls  for  it :  a  maid. 
If  she  have  any  honor.  wouUl  be  loath 
To  take  example  by  her. 

Emi.  TIkhi  art  wanton. 

Arc.  She's  wondrous  fair  ! 

Pal.  She's  all  the  l)eauiy  c\t.»nl ! 

Emi.   The  sun  grows  high  ;  let's  walk  in.     Keep  ihc^ 
flowers ; 
We'll  see  how  near  art  can  come  near  their  colors. 
I'm  wondrous  merry-hearteti  ;  I  could  laugh  now. 
IVait.-w.   I  could  lie  down,  I'm  sure. 
Emi.  And  lake  one  with  you  ? 

Wait.-w.  That's  as  we  bargain,  madam. 

T.N. K.  25.]  VII.  J67. 


Act  II ^  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  l^cene  I. 

Emi.  Well,  agree  then. 

[Exit  with   Waiting-woinaii. 

Pal.  What  think  you  of  this  beauty? 

Arc.  'Tis  a  rare  one. 

Pal.  Is't  but  a  rare  one  ? 

Arc.  Yes,  a  matchless  beauty. 

Pal.  Might  not  a  man  well  lose  himself,  and  love  her  .^ 

Arc.  I  cannot  tell  what  you  have  done  ;  I  have, 
Beshrew  m.ine  eyes  for't !  Now  I  feel  my  shackles. 

Pal.  You  love  her,  then  ? 

Arc.  Who  would  not  ? 

Pal.  And  desire  her  ? 

Arc.  Before  my  liberty. 

Pal.  I  saw  her  first. 

Arc.  That's  nothing. 

Pal.  But  it  shall  be. 

Arc.  I  saw  her  too. 

Pal.  Yes  ;  but  you  must  not  love  her. 

Arc.   I  will  not,  as  you  do,  to  worship  her, 
As  she  is  heavenly  and  a  blessed  goddess ; 
I  love  her  as  a  woman,  to  enjoy  her  : 
So  both  may  love. 

Pal,  You  shall  not  love  at  all. 

Arc.  Not  love  at  all !  who  shall  deny  me  ? 

Pal.  I,  that  first  saw  her ;  I,  that  took  possession 
First  with  mine  eye  of  all  those  beauties  in  her 
Reveal'd  to  mankind.     If  thou  lovest  her, 
■Or  entertain'st  a  hope  to  blast  my  wishes. 
Thou  art  a  traitor,  Arcite,  and  a  fellow 
False  as  thy  title  to  her :  friendship,  blood. 
And  all  the  ties  between  us,  I  disclaim, 
If  thou  once  think  upon  her! 

Arc.  Yes,  I  love  her; 

And  if  the  lives  of  all  my  name  lay  on  it, 
I  must  do  so  ;  I  love  her  with  my  soul. 
If  that  will  lose  ye,  farewell,  Palamon  ! 
I  say  again,  I  love ;  and,  in  loving  her,  maintain 
1  am  as  worthy  and  as  free  a  lover. 
And  have  as  just  a  title  to  her  beauty. 
As  any  Palamon,  or  any  living 
That  is  a  man's  son. 

Pal.  Have  I  call'd  thee  friend? 

VII.  :t63.  [t.n.k.  2& 


Aci //.]  THE   TWO  SOlil.E  K!SS.\tEN. 

Arc.  Yts,   and    have    found    rnc    so.      Whv    .irr    \ou 
mov'd  thus? 
Let  me  deal  coldly  with  you  :  am  not  I 
Part  of  your  blood,  part  of  your  soul  ?  you've  loM  nte 
That  I  was  I'alamon,  and  you  were  Arcilr. 

Pal.  Yes. 

.{re.  Am  not  I    licd)le  to  those  affections. 
Those  joys,  griefs,  angers,  fears,  my  friend  shall  suffer? 

Pal.  Ye  may  be. 

Arc.  Why,  then,  would  you  deal  so  cunningly. 
So  strangely,  so  unlike  a  noble  kinsman. 
To  love  alone  }    Speak  truly  ;  do  you  think  mc 
Unworthy  of  her  sight  ? 

Pal.  No  ;  but  unjust 

If  thou  pursue  that  sight. 

Arc.  Because  another 

First  sees  the  enemy,  shall  I  stand  still. 
And  let  mine  honor  down,  and  never  charge? 

Pal.  Yes,  if  he  be  but  one. 

Arc.  Hut  say  that  one 

Had  rather  combat  nu-  ? 

Pal.  Let  that  one  say  so. 

And  use  thy  freedom  :  else,  if  thou  pursu'st  her. 
Be  as  that  cursed  man  that  hates  his  counir)'. 
A  branded  villain  ! 

Arc.  You  are  mad. 

Pal.  I  must  be. 

Till  thou  art  worthy,  Arcite  ;  it  concrrns  mc; 
And,  in  this  madness,  if  1  hazard  thee 
And  take  thy  life,  1  deal  but  truly. 

Arc.  Tie.  sir! 

You  play  the  child  extremely  :  I  will  love  her, 
1  must.  I  ought  to  do  so,  and  I  dare ; 
And  all  this  justly. 

Pal.  '  O.  that  now,  that  now 

Thy  false  self  and  thy  friend  had  but  this  fortune. 
To  be  one  hour  at  libertv.  and  grasp 
Our  good  sworils  in  our  hands  !  I'd  quickly  teach  (i;rc- 
What  'twere  to  tilch  affection  from  another! 
Thou  art  baser  in  it  than  a  cutpurse  : 
Put  but  thy  head  out  of  this  window  n)orr. 
And,  as  1  have  a  soul.  I'll  nail  thy  '  '•    '■''?  ' 

T..M.K.  27.]  ^■"-  3'^>- 


Act  Ii,  1  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  ^Scene  1, 

Arc.  Thou  dar'st  not,  fool ;   thou  canst  not ;   thou  art 
feeble  : 
Put  my  head  out !  I'll  throw  my  body  out, 
And  leap  the  garden,  when  I  see  her  next, 
And  pitch  between  her  arms,  to  anger  thee. 

Pal.  No  more  !  the  keeper's  coming  :  I  shall  live 
To  knock  thy  brains  out  with  my  shackles. 

Arc.  Do  I 

Re-enter  Gaoler. 

Gaoler.  By  your  leave,  gentlemen. 

Pa/.  Now,  honest  keeper? 

Gaoler.  Lord  Arcite,  you  must   presently  to  the  duke  : 
The  cause  I  know  not  yet. 

Arc.  I'm  ready,  keeper. 

Gaoler.  Prince  Palamon,  I  must  awhile  bereave  you 
Of  your  fair  cousin's  company. 

Pal.  And  me  too, 

E\en  when  you  please,  of  life.  \Exeu7it  Gaoler  and  Arcite. 

Why  is  he  sent  for  } 
It  may  be,  he  shall  marr}-  her ;  he's  goodly. 
And  like  enough  the  duke  hath  taken  notice 
Both  of  his  blood  and  body.     But  his  falsehood  ! 
Why  should  a  friend  be  treacherous.-'  if  that 
Get  him  a  wife  so  noble  and  so  fair. 
Let  honest  men  ne'er  love  again.     Once  more 
I  would  but  see  this  fair  one. —  Blessed  garden, 
And  fruit  and  flowers  more  blessed,  that  still  blossom 
As  her  bright  eyes  shine  on  ye !  Would  I  were. 
For  all  the  fortune  of  my  life  hereafter, 
Yon  little  tree,  yon  blooming  apricock  ! 
How  I  would  spread,  and  fling  my  wanton  arms 
In  at  her  window  !  I  would  bring  her  fruit 
Fit  for  the  gods  to  feed  on  ;  youth  and  pleasure, 
Still  as  she  tasted,  should  be  doubled  on  her  ; 
And  if  she  be  not  heavenly,  I  would  make  her 
So  near  the  gods  in  nature,  they  should  fear  her ; 
And  then  I'm  sure  she  would  love  me. 

Re-e7iter  Gaoler. 

How  now,  keeper ! 
Where's  Arcite  } 

VII.  370.  [t.n.k.  28. 


A.'t //.]  THi:  Tiro  NO/iL/C  A-/.VS.\/£X.  \JS*0m  t 

Gaoler.  Hanish'd.     Prince  Pirithous 

Obtain *d  his  liberty  :  but  never  more. 
Upon  his  oath  and  life,  must  he  set  fool 
Upon  this  kingdom. 

Pal.   \asicli'\  He's  a  blessed  man  ! 

He  shall  see  Thebes  again,  and  call  to  arms 
The  i)old  young  men  that,  when  he  bids  'em  charge. 
Fall  on  like  fire  :  Arcite  sh.ill  have  a  fortune, 
If  he  dare  make  himself  a  worthy  lover. 
Yet  in  the  field  to  strike  a  battle  for  iier ; 
And  if  he  lose  her  then,  he's  a  cold  coward  : 
How  bravely  may  he  bear  himself  to  win  her. 
If  he  be  noble  Arcite,  thousand  ways ! 
Were  I  at  liberty,  I  would  do  things 
Of  such  a  virtuous  greatness,  that  this  lady. 
This  blushing  virgin,  should  take  manhood  to  her. 
And  seek  to  ravish  me. 

Gaoler.  My  lord,  for  \(H1 

I  have  this  charge  too  — 

Pal.  To  discharge  my  life  } 

Gaoler.  No  ;  but  from  this  place  to  remove  your  lord* 
ship  : 
The  windows  are  too  open. 

Pal.  Devils  take  'em 

That  are  so  envious  to  me  I  I'riihee.  kill  me. 

Gaoler.   And  hang  for't  afterwarti  ? 

Pal.  Hy  this  good  light. 

Had  I  a  sword,  I'd  kill  thee. 

Gaoler.  Why,  my  lonl  } 

Pal.  Thou  bring'st  such    pelting   scurvy  news   conlin- 
ually. 
Thou  art  not  worthy  life.     I  will  not  go. 

Gaoler.  Indeed,  you  must,  my  lord. 

Pal.  May  I  see  the  g.irdcn  ? 

Gaoler.   No. 

Pal.  Then  I'm  resolv'd  I  will  not  go. 

Gaoler.  I  "uist 

Constrain  you,  then  ;  and,  for  you're  dangerous^ 
I'll  clap  more  irons  on  you. 

Pal.  Ho,  good  keejKrr  : 

I'll  shake  'em  so,  ye  shall  not  sleep ; 
I'll  make  ye  a  new  nn^rris.     Must  1  go? 

T.N.K.29.]  ^l'-  37«. 


dct  II.-]  THE   Tiro  XOBLE  KiySMEN.  \Sccne  11. 

Gaoler.  There  is  no  remedy. 

Pal.  [asz'de]  Farewell,  kind  window  ; 

May  rude  wind  never  hurt  thee  !  —  O  my  lady, 
If  ever  thou  hast  felt  what  sorrow  was, 
Dream  how  I  suffer  I —  Come,  now  bury  me.        \_Ex£u?it, 

Scene  II.  The  count 7-y  7iear  Athens, 

Enter  Arcite. 

Arc.  Banish 'd  the  kingdom  ?  'tis  a  benefit, 
,A  mercy,  I  must  thank  'em  for ;  but  banish'd 
The  free  enjoying  of  that  face  I  die  for, 
O,  'twas  a  studied  punishment,  a  death 
Beyond  imagination  !  such  a  vengeance. 
That,  were  I  old  and  wicked,  all  my  sins 
Could  never  pluck  upon  me.     Palamon, 
Thou  hast  the  start  now;  thou  shalt  stay,  and  see 
Her  bright  eyes  break  each  morning  'gainst  thy  window, 
And  let  in  life  into  thee  ;  thou  shalt  feed 
Upon  the  sweetness  of  a  noble  beauty. 
That  nature  ne'er  exceeded,  nor  ne'er  shall  : 
-Good  gods,  what  happiness  has  Palamon  ! 
Twenty  to  one,  he'll  come  to  speak  to  her  ; 
And,  if  she  be  as  gentle  as  she's  fair, 
I  know  she's  his;  he  has  a  tongue  will  tame 
Tempests,  and  make  the  wild  rocks  wanton.    Come  what 

can  come, 
The  worst  is  death  ;  I  will  not  leave  the  kingdom  : 
I  know  mine  own  is  but  a  heap  of  ruins, 
And  no  redress  there  :  if  I  go,  he  has  her. 
I  am  resolv'd  :  another  shape  shall  make  me, 
Or  end  my  fortunes  ;  either  way,  I'm  happy  : 
I'll  see  her,  and  be  near  her,  or  no  more. 

Enter  four  Countrymen  ;   one  with  a  garlafid  before 
them. 

First  Coun.  My  masters,  I'll  be  there,  that's  certain. 
Sec.  Coun.  And'  I'll  be  there. 
Third  Coun.  And  I. 

Fourth  Coun.  Why,  then,  have  with  ye,  boys  !  'tis  but 
a  chiding: 

VII.  372.  [t.n.k.  30, 


/let//.]  T//E  TllO  xon/.F.  K/Xs.\rf-:.\'.  [     ,nt/l 

Let  the  plow  play  to-day  ;  I'll  ticklc't  out 
Of  the  jades'  tails  to-iiiorrow. 

Firs/  Conn.  \  am  surr 

To  have  my  wife  as  jealous  as  a  turkey  : 
]Jut  that's  all  one:  111  ^o  lhiou;(h.  lei'hcr  mumble. 

Sec.  Coiin.  Clap  her  aboard  to-morrow  nighl,  and  Mov 
her. 
And  all's  made  up  a;^Min. 

Third  Conn.  Ay,  do  but  put 

A  fescue  in  her  fist,  and  you  shall  see  her 
Take  a  new  lesson  out.  and  be  a  >^ood  wench. 
Do  we  all  hoUl  ai^.iinst  the  Ma\  ini;  ? 

Fourth  Conn.  \  fold  ! 

What  should  ail  us  ? 

Third  Conn.   Areas  will  be  there. 

Sec.  Conn,  And  Scnnois, 

And  Rycas  ;  and  three  better  lads  neer  daiu  'd 
Under  green  tree  ;  and  ye  know  what  wenehrs.  ha  ! 
But  will  the  dainty  domine.  the  schoolmaster. 
Keep  touch,  do  you  think  ?  for  he  does  ail.  ye  know. 

Third  Conn.   Hell  eat  a  hornbook,  ere  he  fail  :  ;^      "    ' 
The  matter  is  too  far  driven  between 
Him  and  the  tanner's  dauj^duer,  to  let  slip  now  : 
And  she  must  see  the  duke,  and  she  must  daib 

Fonrth  Conn.  Shall  we  be  lusty  ? 

Sec.  Conn.  '  All  the  boys  in  Alher 

Blow  wind  i'  the  breech  on  us:  and  hrrr  111  be. 
And  there  I'll  be.  for  our  town,  and  lu-re  a^ain. 
And  there  a^^ain  :  ha,  boys,  hei^^h  for  ihr  wravers  ! 

First  Conn.  This  must  be  done  i'  the  woods. 

Fourth  Conn.  O.  pnrdon  m*- ! 

Sec,  Conn.    By  any  means :  our  thinj.  of  learning:  -     - 
so  ; 
Where  he  himself  will  edify  the  duke 
Most    parlously    in   our    behalfs :    he's    cxcellrnt    i'   ll  ' 

woods ; 
Brinjj  him  to  the  plains,  his  learning  mnkes  no  cr>'. 

Third  Conn.   We'll  see  the  sports ;    then    r\cr\   «n.»n 
to's  tackle  !      ^• 
And.  sweet  companions,  let's  rG\"(o^rsp  by  inv  me.uis. 
Before  the  ladies  see  us.  and  v"./*  V*".*"^')- 
And  Cfod  knows  what  may  come  on'l. 

T.N  K.  3'  ]  VII.  jrj 


Aci/L]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  \Scette  III. 

Fourth  Coun.  Content  :  the  sports 

Once  ended,  we'll  perform.     Away,  boys,  and  hold  ! 

Arc.   By  your  leaves,  honest  friends  ;  pray  you,  whith- 
er go  you  ? 

Fourth  Coun.  Whither  !  why,  what  a  question's  that ! 

Arc.  Yes,  'tis  a  question 

To  me  that  know  not. 

Third  Coun.  To  the  games,  my  friend. 

Sec.   Coun.  Where  were  you  bred,  you  know  it  not } 

Arc.  Not  far,  sir. 

Are  there  such  games  to-day  ? 

First  Coun.  Yes,  many,  are  there  ; 

And  such  as  you  never  saw :  the  duke  himself 
Will  be  in  person  there. 

Arc.  What  pastimes  are  they  } 

Sec.  Coun.  Wrestlingand  running. — 'Tis  a  pretty  fellow. 

Third  Coun.  Thou  wilt  not  go  along  ? 

Arc.  Not  yet,  sir. 

Fourth  Cotm.  \\'ell,  sir. 

Take  your  own  time. —  Come,  boys. 

First  Coun.  My  mind  misgives  me 

This  fellow  has  a  vengeance-trick  o'  the  hip ; 
Mark  how  his  body's  made  for't. 

Sec.  Coun.  I'll  be  hang'd  though. 

If  he  dare  venture  ;  hang  him,  plum-porridge  ! 
He  wrestle.''  he  roast  eggs  !     Come,  let's  be  gone,  lads. 

[Fxeunt  Country7nen. 

Arc.  This  is  an  offer'd  opportunity 
I  durst  not  wish  for.  Well  I  could  have  wrestled, 
The  best  men  call'd  it  excellent ;  and  run 
Swifter  than  wind  upon  a  field  of  corn. 
Curling  the  wealthy  ears,  ever  flew.     I'll  venture. 
And  in  some  pc  or  disguise  be  there :  who  knows 
Whether  my  brows  may  not  be  girt  with  garlands. 
And  happiness  prefer  me  to  a  place 
Where  I  may  ever  dwell  in  sight  of  her?  [Fxit. 

Scene  III.  Athcjis.  A  room  in  the  prison. 

Filter  Gaoler's  daughter. 

Daiigh.  Why  shoi^f  c^  love  this  gentleman  ?  'tis  odds 
He  never  will  affect  nie  :  I  am  base, 

/  VII.  374.  [t.n.k.  32. 


Acf.  //.]  T//E  Tiro  AOB/.J-:  A'/.V-SWr/A".  [StnttV. 

My  father  the  mean  keeper  of  his  prison. 

And  he  a  prince  :  to  marry  him  is  hopeless. 

To  be  his  whore  is  witless.     Out  uj)on't  I 

What  pushes  are  we  wenches  (hiven  lo, 

When  fifteen  once  has  found  us  !  First,  I  saw  him  ; 

I,  seeing,  thought  he  was  a  goodly  man  ; 

He  has  as  much  tt)  please  a  woman  in  him  — 

If  he  please  to  bestow  it  so  —  as  ever 

These  eyes  yet  look'don  :  next  I  pitied  him  ; 

And  so  would  any  young  w«-nch.  o"  my  conscience. 

That  ever  dream'd,  or  vow'd  lur  maidenht-.id 

To  a  young  handsome  man  :  then  I  lo\  "d  liim. 

Extremely  lov'd  him,  infinitely  lov'd  him  ; 

And  yet  he  had  a  cousin,  fcur  .is  he  loo  ; 

But  in  my  heart  was  Palamon.  and  there, 

Lord,  what  a  coil  he  keeps  !  To  hear  him 

Sing  in  an  evening,  what  a  heaven  it  is ! 

And  yet  his  songs  are  sad  ones.     Fairer  spoken 

Was  never  gentleman  :  when  I  come  in 

To  bring  him  water  in  a  morning,  first 

He  bows  his  noble  body,  then  salutes  me  thus, 

*'  Fair,  gentle  maid,  good  morrow  :  may  thy  goodness 

Get  thee  a  hapj^y  husband  !  "     Once  he  kiss'd  me  • 

I  lov'd  my  lii)s  the  better  ten  days  after  : 

Would  he  would  do  so  every  day  I     He  grieves  much. 

And  me  as  much  to  see  his  misery  : 

What  should  I  do,  to  make  him  know  I  love  him  ? 

For  I  would  fain  enjoy  him  :  say  I  ventur'd 

To  set  him  free?  wh.it  says  the  law,  th<-n  ? 

Thus  much  for  law,  or  kindred  !  1  will  do  it  ; 

And  this  night  or  to-morrow  he  shall  love  me.  [Exit, 

SCKNE  IV.  .///  opc-n  placi'  i't   At  hens.   A  short  Jlourisk 
of  cornets,  and  shouts  within. 

Enter   Theseus.   Hum'olviw.    Pikithois.   Kmiliaj 
Arcite  liis^uisc-tt,  "u'titrini^  a  ^artanti ;  and 

Countrymen. 

T/u-s.  Vou  have  done  worthily;  I  have  not  seen. 
Since  Hercules,  a  man  of  toucher  sinews  : 
Whate'er  you  are,  you  run  the  best,  and  wrestle. 
That  these  times  can  allow. 

T.N.K.  33.)  Vll.  i7V 


net  //,]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN,  [Scene  JP\ 

Arc.  I'm  proud  to  please  you. 

Thes,  What  country  bred  you  ? 

Arc,  This  ;  but  far  off,  prince; 

Thes.  Are  you  a  gentleman  ? 

Arc.  ]\Iy  father  said  so  • 

And  to  those  gentle  uses  gave  me  life. 

Thes.   Are  you  his  heir  ? 

Arc.  His  youngest,  sir, 

Thes,  Your  father* 

Sure,  is  a  happy  sire,  then.     What  proves  you  ? 

Arc.   A  little  of  all  noble  qualities : 
I  could  have  kept  a  hawk,  and  well  have  holla'd 
To  a  deep  cry  of  dogs  ;  I  dare  not  praise 
My  feat  in  horsemanship,  yet  they  that  knew  me 
Would  say  it  was  my  best' piece  ;  last  and  greatest* 
I  would  be  thought  a  soldier. 

Thes.  You  are  perfect. 

Pir.  Upon  my  soul,  a  proper  man  ! 

Emi.  He  is  so. 

Pir.  How  do  you  like  him,  lady.^ 

Hip.  I  admire  him  : 

I  have  not  seen  so  young  a  man  so  noble, 
If  he  say  true,  of  his  sort. 

Emi.  Believe 

His  mother  was  a  wondrous  handsome  woman; 
His  face  methinks  goes  that  way. 

Hip.  But  his  body 

And  fiery  mind  illustrate  a  brave  father. 

Pir.  Mark  how  his  virtue,  like  a  hidden  sun. 
Breaks  through  his  baser  garments  ! 

Hip.  He's  well  got,  sure. 

Thes.  What  made  you  seek  this  place,  sir  ? 

Arc.  Noble  Theseusfe 

To  purchase  name,  and  do  my  ablest  service 
To  such  a  well-found  wonder  as  thy  worth  ; 
For  only  in  thy  court,  of  all  the  world. 
Dwells  fair-ey'd  Honor. 

Pir.  All  his  words  are  worthy, 

Thes.   Sir,  we  are  much  indebted  to  your  traveU 
Nor  shall  you  lose  your  wish. —  Pirithous, 
Dispose  of  this  fair  gentleman. 

Pir.  Thanks.  Theseus. — 

VII.  376  [T.NJC34I 


Actri.]  T//f-:  Tiro  xoBr.F  K/NSMey.  {S.*m0m 

Whate'er  you  are,  you're  mine  :  and  I  shall  give  you 

To  a  most  noble  servicr,—  lo  this  lady. 
This  l)rij;ht  y(>un;r  virgin:  pray.  obscr>'c  her  jfoodneM 
You've  honor'd  her  fjir  hirihday  with  your       - 
And,  as  your  due.  you're  hers;  kiss  hrr  fai: 

Arc.  Sir,  you're  a  noble  giver. —  [  Jo  Em i 

beauty.  fyour 

Thus  let  me  seal  my  vow'd  faith  f  AVWx/i^r  ha  i 

Your  most  unworthy  creature  —  but  offends  y. 
Command  liim  die,  he  shall. 

I'-ffti.  Thai  were  too  cruel. 

If  you  deserve  well,  sir.  I  shall  soon  sec'l  : 
You're  mine;  and  sonuwhal  better  than  your  rank 
I'll  use  you. 

Pir.  I'll  see  you  furnish'd:  and  because  you  say 
You  are  a  horseman.  I  must  needs  entreat  you 
This  afternoon  to  ride  ;  but  'tis  a  rough  one. 

Arc.  I  like  him  better,  prince;  1  shall  not,  then. 
Freeze  in  my  saddle. 

Thcs.  Sweet,  you  must  be  ready. — 

And  you,  Emilia, —  and  you,  friend, —  and  all, — 
To-morrow,  by  the  sun,  to  do  obsenancc 
To  flowery  May,  in  Dians  wood. —  W.iii  well,  sir. 
Upon  your  mistress. —  Emily,  I  hope 
He  shall  not  go  a-foot. 

Emi.  That  were  a  shame,  sir. 

While  I  have  horses.  —Take  yourchoice;  and  what 
You  want  at  any  time,  let  me  but  know  it: 
If  you  serve  faithfully,  1  dare  assure  you 
You'll  find  a  loving  mistress. 

Arc.  If  I  do  not. 

Let  me  find  that  my  father  erer  hated, — 
Disgrace  and  blows, 

Thcx.  Go.  lead  the  way  ;  you've  won  it ; 

It  shall  be  so  :  you  shall  receive  all  dues 
Fit  for  the  honor  you  have  won  ;    'twere  wrong  else,— 
Sister,  beshrew  my  heart.  y«)U  have  a  ser>anl. 
That,  if  I  were  a  woman,  would  be  n)aster  : 
But  you  are  wise. 

Emi,  I  hope  too  wise  for  that.  sir. 

[F/ourisA,   ExoihA 


T.N.K.  ^5  )  *'^^  rr. 


id  //.I  THE  TIVO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  [Scene  F. 

Scene  V.  Athens.  Befcj-e  the  prison. 

Enter  Gaoler's  Daughter. 

Datigh.   Let  all  the  dukes  and  all  the  devils  roar 
He  is  at  liberty  :  I've  ventur'd  for  him  ; 
And  out  I've  brought  him  to  a  little  wood 
A  mile  hence  :  I  have  sent  him,  where  a  cedar. 
Higher  than  all  the  rest,  spreads  like  a  plane. 
Fast  by  a  brook  ;  and  there  he  shall  keep  close. 
Till  I  provide  him  files  and  food  ;  for  yet 
His  iron  bracelets  are  not  off.    O  Love, 
What  a  stout-hearted  child  thou  art  !  My  father 
Durst  better  have  endur'd  cold  iron  than  done  it, 
I  love  him  beyond  love  and  beyond  reason, 
Or  wit,  or  safety  ;  I  have  made  him  know  it : 
I  care  not  ;  I  am  desperate  :  if  the  law 
Find  me,  and  then  condemn  me  for't,  some  wenches^ 
Some  honest-hearted  maids  will  sing  my  dirge. 
And  tell  to  memory  my  death  was  noble. 
Dying  almost  a  martyr.     That  way  he  takes, 
I  purpose  is  my  way  too  :  sure  he  cannot 
Be  so  unmanly  as  to  leave  me  here  : 
If  he  do,  maids  will  not  so  easily 
Trust  men  again  :  and  yet  he  has  not  thank'd  me 
For  what  I've  done  ;  no,  not  so  much  as  kiss'd  me; 
And  that,  methinks,  is  not  so  well ;  nor  scarcely 
Could  I  persuade  him  to  become  a  freeman. 
He  made  such  scruples  of  the  wrong  he  did 
To  me  and  to  my  father.     Yet,  I  hope, 
When  he  considers  more,  this  love  of  mine 
Will  take  more  root  within  him  :  let  him  do 
What  he  will  with  me,  so  he  use  me  kindly  ; 
For  use  me  so  he  shall,  or  I'll  proclaim  him, 
And  to  his  face,  no  man.     I'll  presently 
Provide  him  necessaries,  and  pack  my  clothes  up. 
And  where  there  is  a  path  of  ground  I'll  venture, 
So  he  be  with  me  :  by  him,  like  a  shadow, 
I'll  ever  dwell.     Within  this  hour  the  whoobub 
Will  be  all  o'er  the  prison  :  I  am  then 
Kissing  the  man  they  look  for.     Farewell,  father ! 
Get  many  more  such  prisoners  and  such  daughters, 
And  shortly  you  may  keep  yourself.    Now  to  him  !  {Exit. 

VII   378.  [t.n.k.  36. 


Aceni.-\  THE  mo  S-OliLE  KISSMES.  i&tml 

ACT  III. 

Scene  \.  A  forest  near  .U/it-ns.  Cornrts  in  sundry  plaits, 
noise  and  Iiallooini^,  as  of  people  a-Maytnc. 

Enter  AkciTK. 

Arc.  The  duke  has  lost  Hippolyta  ;  each  look 
A  several  land.     This  is  a  soirmn  rile 
They  owe  hlooin'd  May.  and  the  Athenians  pay  it 
To  th'  heart  of  cerenujny.     O  queen  Kiniha, 
Fresher  than  May,  sweeter 
Than  her  gold  buttons  on  the  boughs,  or  all 
Th'  enamel'd  knacks  o*  the  meat!  or  j^arden  I  yea. 
We  challenge  too  the  bank  of  any  nymph. 
That  makes  the  stream  seem  flowers  ;  ihou.  O  jewel 
O'  the  wood,  o'  the  world,  hast  likewise  ble<sb"d  a  place 
With  thy  sole  presence  !     In  thy  ruminali«)n 
That  I,  poor  man.  might  eftsoons  come  between. 
And  chop  on  some  cold  thought  I  thricc-bless^  chance; 
To  drop  on  such  a  mistress.  e.x|)ectalion 
Most  guiltless  on't.     Tell  me,  O  Lady  Fortune, — 
Next  after  Emily  my  sovereign. —  how  far 
I  may  be  proud.     She  takes  strong  note  of  rue. 
Hath  made  me  near  her,  and  this  beauteous  mom. 
The  prim'st  of  all  the  year,  presents  me  with 
A  brace  of  horses ;  two  such  steeds  might  well 
Be  by  a  pair  of  kings  back'd.  in  a  field 
That  their  crowns'  titles  tried.     Alas.  alas. 
Poor  cousin  Palamon,  poor  prisoner!  thou 
So  little  drcam'st  upon  my  fortune,  that 
Thou  think'st  thyself  the  happier  thing,  to  l)C 
So  near  Emilia;  me  thou  deem'st  at  Thebes. 
And  therein  wretched,  although  free  :  but  if 
Thou  knew'st  my  mistress  bre.ilh'd  on  mc.  and  ihal 
1  ear'd  her  language,  liv'd  in  her  eye.  O  coi. 
What  passion  would  inclose  thee  ! 

Enter  Palamon  out  of  a   hush,  ivith  his  shaekUs :  ki 

bends  his  fist  at  ArcITK. 

Pal,  Traitor  kinsman ! 

Thou  shouldst  perceive  my  passion,  if  these  signs 
Of  prisonment  were  off  me,  and  this  hand 

T.N.K    37.]  VII.  J^^. 


Act  III.]  THE  TIVO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  [Scene  I 

But  owner  of  a  sword.     By  all  oaths  in  one, 

I,  and  the  justice  of  my  love,  would  make  thee 

A  confess'd  traitor  !     6  thou  most  pertidious 

That  ever  gently  look'd  !  the  void'st  of  honor 

That  e'er  bore  gentle  token  !  falsest  cousin 

That  ever  blood  made  kin  !  call'st  thou  her  thine? 

I'll  prove  it  in  my  shackles,  with  these  hands 

Void  of  appointment,  that  thou  liest,  and  art 

A  very  thief  in  love,  a  chaffy  lord, 

Nor  worth  the  name  of  villain  !     Had  I  a  sword. 

And  these  house-clogs  away, — 

Arc.  Dear  cousin  Palamon,-« 

Fa/.  Cozener  Arcite,  give  me  language  such 
As  thou  hast  show'd  me  feat! 

A?-c.  Not  finding  in 

The  circuit  of  my  breast  any  gross  stuff 
To  form  me  like  your  blazon,  holds  me  to 
This  gentleness  of  answer:  'tis  your  passion 
That  thus  mistakes;  the  which,  to  you  being  enemy> 
CanRot  to  me  be  kind.     Honor  and  honesty 
I  cherish  and  depend  on,  howsoe'er 
You  skip  them  in  me  ;  and  with  them,  fair  coz, 
I'll  maintain  my  proceedings.     Pray,  be  pleas'd 
To  show  in  generous  terms  your  griefs,  since  that 
Your  question's  with  your  equal,  who  professes 
To  clear  his  own  way  with  the  mind  and  sword 
Of  a  true  gentleman. 

Fa/.  That  thou  durst,  Arcite  ! 

Arc.  Aly  coz,  my  coz,  you  have  been  well  advertis'd 
How  much  I  dare :  you've  seen  me  use  my  sword 
Against  th'  advice  of  fear.     Sure,  of  another 
You  would  not  hear  me  doubted,  but  your  silence 
Should  break  out,  though  i'  the  sanctuary. 

Fa/.  ^      Sir, 

I've  seen  you  move  in  such  a  place,  which  well 
Might  justify  your  manhood  ;  you  were  call'd 
A  good  knight  and  a  bold  :  but  the  whole  week's  not  fair, 
If  any  day  it  rain.     Their  valiant  temper 
Men  lose  when  they  incline  to  treacher}-; 
And  then  they  fight  like  compell'd  bears,  would  fly 
Were  they  not  tied. 

Arc.  Kinsman,  you  might  as  well 

VII.  ^5<o.  [t.n.k.  38. 


Hct  ///.}  TUE  TH'O  NOBLE  KISSMRS.  \S4emt  I 

Speak  this,  and  act  it  in  your  glass,  as  lo 
His  ear  which  now  disdains  you. 

J'ciL  Come  up  lo  me: 

(2uit  nie  of  these  cold  gAvcs,  jjivr  me  a  sword, 
Thouj^h  it  be  rusty,  and  the  charily 
Of  one  meal  lend  nie ;  come  before  mc  then, 
A  good  sword  in  thy  hand,  and  do  but  say 
That  Emily  is  thine.  I  will  forgive 
The  tresi)ass  thou  hast  done  me.  yea,  my  life. 
If  then  thou  carry't  ;  and  brave  souls  in  shades. 
That  have  died  manly,  which  will  seek  of  uw 
Some  news  from  earth,  they  shall  gel  none  but  ihii^ 
That  thou  art  brave  and  noble. 

Arc.  Be  content. 

Again  betake  you  to  your  hawthorn-house: 
With  counsel  of  the  night.  I  will  be  here 
With  wholesome  viancls  ;  these  impediments 
Will  I  file  off ;  you  shall  have  garments,  and 
Perfumes  to  kill  the  smell  o'  the  prison  ;  after. 
When  you  shall  stretch  yourself,  and  say  but,  "  Arcilc, 
I  am  in  plight,"  there  shall  be  at  your  choice 
Both  sword  and  armor. 

Pal.  O  you  heavens,  dare  any 

So  noble  bear  a  guilty  baseness  }  none 
But  only  Arcite  ;  therefore  none  l)ut  Arcilc 
In  this  kind  is  so  bold. 

Arc.  Sweet  Palamon. — 

Pal.  I  do  embrace  you  and  your  «  ::'  :  :  for 
Your  offer  do't  I  only,  sir;  your  pir;>.iii. 
Without  hvpocrisv,  I  may  not  wish 
More  than'my  sword's  edge  on 'l.    \ Horns  xvintifd  witktu, 

^Ifc.  You  ^^-^^  ihc  boms: 

Enter  your  muset.  lest  this  match  l)elwecn's 
Be  cross'd  ere  met.     Give  mc  your  hand  ;  farc>*-cU  : 
I'll  bring  vou  ever)-  needful  thing:  I  pray  you. 
Take  comfort,  and  be  strong. 

p^jl  Pray,  hold  your  promlM^ 

And  do  the  deed  with  a  bent  brow  :  most  certain 
You  love  me  not :  be  rough  with  mr.  and  pour 
This  oil  out  of  vc^ur  language.     W)  ihis  air. 
I  could  for  each  word  give  a  cuff;  my  slom*cft 
Not  rcconcil'd  by  reason. 
T.N.K.  39.]  ^  "  »**• 


Act  lir.1  THE  TVrO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  \Scene  IK 

Arc.  Plainly  spoken  \ 

Yet  pardon  me  hard  language :  when  I  spur 
My  horse,  I  chide  him  not ;  content  and  anger 
In  me  have  but  one  face.  \^Ho7-ns  winded  agaiHx 

Harlv,  sir  !  they  call 
The  scatter'd  to  the  banquet  :  you  must  guess 
I  have  an  office  there. 

Pal.  Sir,  your  attendance 

Cannot  please  heaven  ;  and  I  know  your  office 
Unjustly  is  achiev'd. 

Arc.  I've  a  good  title, 

I  am  persuaded  :  this  question,  sick  between's, 
By  bleeding  must  be  cur'd.     I  am  a  suitor 
That  to  your  sword  you  will  bequeath  this  plea. 
And  talk  of  it  no  more. 

Pal.  But  this  one  word  : 

You're  going  now  to  gaze  upon  my  mistress  ; 
For,  note  you,  mine  she  is, — 

Arc.  Nay,  then, — 

Pal.  Nay,  pray  you,— 

You  talk  of  feeding  me  to  breed  me  strength  ; 
You're  going  now  to  look  upon  a  sun 
That  strengthens  what  it  looks  on  ;  there  you  have 
A  vantage  o'er  me  :  but  enjoy  it  till 
I  may  enforce  my  remedy.    Farewell.  \Exeii7it  severally. 

Scene  II.  Another  part  of  the  forest. 

Enter  Gaoler's  Daughter. 

Datigk.  He  has  mistook  the  brake  I  meant ;  is  gone 
After  his  fancy.     'Tis  now  well-nigh  morning; 
No  matter :  would  it  were  perpetual  night, 
And  darkness  lord  o*  the  world  !  —  Hark  !  'tis  a  wolf  : 
In  me  hath  grief  slain  fear,  and,  but  for  one  thing, 
I  care  for  nothing,  and  that's  Palamon  : 
I  reck  not  if  the  wolves  would  jaw  me,  so 
He  had  this  file.     What  if  I  holla'd  for  him  ? 
I  cannot  holla:  if  I  whoop'd,  what  then.^ 
If  he  not  answer'd,  I  should  call  a  wolf. 
And  do  him  but  that  service.     I  have  heard 
Strange  howls  this  live-long  night :  why  may't  not  be 
They  have  made  prey  of  him  }  he  has  no  weapons  ; 

VII.  382.  [t.n.ic.  4« 


Mrtin:\  Tin:  ■; .'■  ^  xom.F.  Kr:KMi:s\  i 

lie  cannot  lun;  llic  jinglinj;  of  1.:    ,  .  ..  . 
Might  call  fill  things  to  listen,  who  h.i\r  in  them 
A  sense  to  know  a  man  unarm'd,  an<I  cm 
Smell  where  resistance  is.     I'll  set  it  down 
He's  torn  to  pieces;  they  howlM  niaiiv  logrlhcT, 
And  then  they  fed  on  hi'm  :  so  much  for  that ; 
Be  bold  to  ring  the  bell  ;  how  stand  I.  thrn? 
All's  char'd  when  he  is  gone.     No,  no.  I  He; 
My  father's  to  be  hang'd  for  his  escape; 
Myself  to  beg.  if  1  jiriz'd  life  so  much 
As  to  deny  my  act  ;  but  that  I  would  not. 
Should  I  try'  death  by  dozens. —  I  am  mop'd  : 
Food  took  I  none  these  two  days  ;  oiu c,  indeed. 
I  sipp'd  some  water;  I've  not  clos'd  mine  cy«-s. 
Save  when  my  lids  scour'd  off  their  brine.     Alas. 
Dissolve,  my  life  !  let  not  my  sense  unsettle. 
Lest  I  should  drown,  or  stab,  or  hanjj  myself  I 

0  state  of  nature,  fail  together  in  me. 

Since  thy  best  props  arc  warp'd  !  —  So,  which  way  now  ? 

rhc  best  way  is  the  next  way  to  a  grave: 

v\!ach  errant  step  beside  is  torment.     Lo, 

The  moon  is  down,  the  crickets  chirp,  the  screech-owl 

Calls  in  the  dawn  !  all  ofTices  arc  done. 

Save  what  I  fail  in  ;  but  the  point  is  this. 

An  end.  and  that  is  all.  {/.i::. 

Scene  III.    T/ie  sam^'partoftheforf^f  -?'  /'/  -^  <■■  •■  /- 

Enfrr  .\RCITE,  -with  meat^wift. 

Arc.  I  should  be  near  the  place.—  IIo.coumu  1'. 

IZnlt-r  r.\I..\MOS. 

/'rt/.  Arcite?  ,  ,     ,       .  ^, 

Arc,  The  same :  I've  brought  you  food  and  filcx 

Come  forth  and  fear  not  :  here's  n<>  Theseus. 

Pal.  Nor  none  so  honest.  Arcitc. 

Arc.  Th  • 

We'll  argue  that  here  ifii  r.     t  omc,  t.d  • 
Vou  shall  not  die  thus  lu.ist'y  :  h'l 

1  know  you're  fainl ;  then  I'll  talk  t 

Pal.   Arcile,  thou  mightsl  now  poison  mr.        ^ 
^^^-  I  might ; 

.^ut  I  must  fear  you  first.     Sit  down;  rr'   ••  -  •'   "-^^• 


Actm.'\  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEM,  {Scene  II l. 

No  more  of  these  vain  parleys :  let  us  not. 

Having  our  ancient  reputation  with  us, 

Make  talk  for  fools  and  cowards.     To  your  health ! 

{^DrifikSt 

Pal.  Do. 

Arc.         Pray,  sit  down,  then  ;  and  let  me  entreat  you, 
By  all  the  honesty  and  honor  in  you, 
No  mention  of  this  woman  !  'twill  disturb  us  ; 
We  shall  have  time  enough. 

Pal.  Well,  sir,  I'll  pledge  you. 

^Drinks, 

A?'C.  Drink  a  good    hearty  draught ;    it  breeds  good 
blood,  man. 
Do  not  you  feel  it  thaw  you  ? 

Pal.  Stay ;  I'll  tell  you 

After  a  draught  or  two  more. 

Arc.  Spare  it  not ; 

Tho  duke  has  more,  coz.     Eat  now. 

Pal.  Yes.  [Eats, 

Arc.  I'm  glad 

You  have  so  good  a  stomach. 

Pal.  I  am  gladder 

I  have  so  good  meat  to't. 

Arc.  Is't  not  mad  lodging 

Here  in  the  wild  woods,  cousin  } 

Pal.  Yes,  for  them 

That  have  wild  consciences. 

Arc.  How  tastes  your  victuals  } 

Your  hunger  needs  no  sauce,  I  see. 

Pal.  Not  much  : 

But  if  it  did,  yours  is  too  tart,  sweet  cousin. 
What  is  this  } 

Arc.  Venison. 

Pal.  'Tis  a  lusty  meat. 

Give  me  more  wine:  here,  Arcite,  to  the  wenches 
We've  known  in  our  days  !     The  lord-steward's  daughter  ; 
Do  you  remember  her  } 

Arc.  After  you,  coz. 

Pal.  She  lov'd  a  black-hair'd  man. 

Arc.  She  did  so  ;  well,  sir  ? 

Pal,  And  I  have  heard  some  call  him  Arcite ;  and  — 

Arc,  Out  with  it,  faith  ! 

VII.  384.  It.n.k.  43. 


A.i  lU.  )  Tlli-.   JH'O  SOBLE  KI.SS^ILS.  ( 


P<^1.  She  met  him  in  an  arbor : 

What  (lid  she  there,  coz  ?  i)I.iy  o'  ihc  virginal .  ? 

A>L .  Somclliin^  she  did.  sir. 

Pill.  M.idc  her  gro.in  a  inuiuli  (or'l; 

Or  two,  or  three,  or  ten. 

Arc.  The  marshal's  sister 

Had  her  share  too,  as  I  remeniber,  t«>usin. 
Else  there  be  tales  abroad:  you'll  pU-dire  her? 

Pal.  ^  \       ^  Yes. 

Arc.  A  pretty  brown  wench  'tis  :  tlicrc  was  a  linnc 
When  younj,'^  men  went  a-huntinj^.  and  a  wood. 
And  a  broad  beech  ;  and  thereby  hangs  a  laic. — 
Heio-h-ho  ! 

Pal.         For  Emily.  u|)on  my  hft- !     Fool, 
Away  with  this  strain'd  mirth  I     I  say  again. 
That  sij^h  was  breath'd  for  Emily:  base  cousin, 
Dar'st  thou  break  tust  } 

Arc.  You're  wide. 

Pal.  By  heaven  and  cartli. 

There's  nothing-  in  thee  honest. 

Arc.  Then  I'll  leave  you  : 

You  are  a  beast  now. 

Pal,  As  thou  mak'st  me.  traitor. 

Arc,  There's  all  things  needful. —  files,  and  shirts,  and 
perfumes  : 
ni  come  again  some  two  hours  hence,  and  bring 
That  that  shall  quiet  all. 

Pal.  A  sword  and  aniior  ? 

Arc.   Fear  me  not.     You  are  now  too  foul:  farewell: 
Get  off  your  trinkets;  you  shall  want  naught. 

Pal.  Sirrah.-- 

Arc.  \'\\  hear  no  more,  \hxtt^ 

Pal  If  he  keep  touch,  he  dies  {o\\, 

\r.iir. 

Scene  I\'.     Anotlur  part  of  thffortit. 
Enter  Gaoler's  Daughter. 

Daui^Jt.  I'm  very  coKl  :  and  all  the  stars  arc  out  10^ 

The  liilie  stars,  and  all  that  look  like  aglets: 

The  sun  has  seen  mv  folk .     Talamon  I 

Alas,  no!  he's  in  heAven.—  Where  am  I  now?  — 

T.N.K.AVI  VII.  1«V 


Act  ni:\  THE   T]rO  XOBLE  KINSMEN.  \Scene^r. 

Yonder's  the  sea,  and  there's  a  ship  ;  how't  tumbles  ! 

And  there's  a  rock  Hes  watching  under  water ; 

Now,  now,  it  beats  upon  it ;  now,  now,  now, 

There's  a  leak  sprung,  a  sound  one  ;  how  they  cry  ! 

Spoom  her  before  the  wind,  you'll  lose  all  else  ; 

Up  with  a  course  or  two,  and  tack  about,  boys  : 

Good  night,  good  night;  ye're  gone. —  I'm  very  hungry; 

Would  I  could  find  a  fine  frog !  he  would  tell  me 

News  from  all  parts  o'  the  world  ;  then  would  1  make 

A  carack  of  a  cockle-shell,  and  sail 

By  east  and  north-east  to  the  King  of  Pigmies, 

For  he  tells  fortunes  rarely.     Now,  my  father. 

Twenty  to  one,  is  truss'd  up  in  a  trice 

To-morrow  morning  :  I'll  say  never  a  word.  \Smgs» 

r  or  I'll  cut  my  green  coat  a  foot  above  my  knee ; 
\nd  I'll  clip  my  yellow  locks  an  inch  below  mine  e'e : 

Hey,  nonny,  nonny,  nonny. 
rle's  buy  me  a  white  cut,  forth  for  to  ride, 
And  I'll  go  seek  him  through  the  world  that  is  so  wide: 

Hey,  nonny,  nonny,  nonny. 

O  for  a  prick  now,  like  a  nightingale, 
To  put  my  breast  against !  I  shall  sleep  hke  a  top  else. 

{Exit, 

Scene  V.     Another  part  of  the  forest. 

Ejiter  Gerrold,  foitr  Countrymen  as  Morris-dancers, 
another  as  the  Bavian,  yfz/.?  Wenches,  and  a  Taborer. 

Ger.  Fie,  fie  ! 
What  tediosity  and  disensanity 
Is  here  among  ye  I     Have  my  rudiments 
Been  labor'd  so  long  with  ye,  milk'd  unto  ye, 
And,  by  a  figure,  even  the  ver}^  plum-broth 
And  marrow  of  my  understanding  laid  upon  ye, 
And  do  you  still  cry  "  Where,"  and  "  How,"  and  "  Where-" 

fore  ?  " 
You  most  coarse  frize  capacities,  ye  jane  judgments, 
Have  I  said  "  Thus  let  be,"  and  "  There  let  be," 
And  "  Then  let  be,"  and  no  man  understand  me.^ 
Proh  Deum,  mediiisfiduis,  ye  are  all  dunces ! 

VII.   386.  [t.N.K.  4+ 


/Jr/  ///.]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KlNHht ! 

For  why  here  slatul  I  ;  here  the  duke  comes ;  there  are 

you. 
Close  in  the  thicket ;  the  duke  appears  ;  I  meet  him. 
And  unto  him  I  utter  learnt^d  things 
And  many  t"i|;ures  ;  he  hears,  and  nods,  and  hums. 
And  then  cries  "Rare;  "  and  I  jjo  forward;  .(•  i<  'v'h 
I  flin<^  my  cap  uj) ;  mark  there!  then  do  you, 
As  once  did  Slelea^er  and  the  hoar. 
Break  comely  out  before  him.  like  true  lovers. 
Cast  yourselves  in  a  body  decently. 
And  sweetly,  i)y  a  ti};ure,  trai  e  and  turn.  boys. 

First  Conn.  And  sweetly  we  will  do  ii.  Master  Gerrold. 

Sec.  Cotifi.   Draw  up  the  compan\ .  \\  here's  the  laborer  ? 

Third  Coun.  Why,  Timothy! 

Tab.  Here,  my  mad  l)oys ;  have  at  ye ! 

Gcr.  But  I  say  wherc's  their  women  ? 

Fourth  Coun.  Here's  Friz  and  Nfnudlin. 

Sec.  Coun.  And  little  Luce  with  the  white  legs,  and 
bouncing  Barbary. 

First  Coun.   And   freckled  Nell,  that  never  fail'd  her 
master. 

Gcr.  Where  be  your  ribands,  maids?  swim  with  your 
bodies, 
And  carry  it  sweetly  and  deliverly  ; 
And  now' and  then  a  favor  and  a  frisk. 

Nell.  Let  us  alone,  sir. 

Ger,  Where's  the  rest  o*  the  music  ? 

Third  Coun.   Dispers'd  as  you  commanded. 

Qer.  Couple,  then. 

And  see  what's  wanting.  Where's  the  Havian  } 
.My  friend,  carrv  your  tail  without  offense 
Or  scandal  to  the  ladies  ;  and  be  st  • 
You  tumble  with  audacity  and  mai. 
And  when  you  bark,  do  it  with  jud^' 

Bav.  Ves.  sir. 

Ger.  Ouo  usque  tandem  ?  here's  a  woman  wanting. 

FourTh  Coun.  We  may  go  whistle ;  all  the  fat's  i'  the  fire. 

Ger.  We  have. 
As  learnt^d  authors  utter,  wash'd  a  tile; 
We  have  h^-cn  fat uus.  and  labor'd  vainly. 

Sec.  Coun.  This  is  that  sc(^rnful  piece,  that  scuny  hild- 
ing. 

T  N.K.   .C.  VII.     ,87. 


<4ct  l/L]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KIXSMEN.  iScetig  f. 

That  gave  her  promise  faithfully  she  would 

Ee  here,  Cicely  the  sempster's  daughter  : 

The  next  gloves  that  I  give  her  shall  be  dog-skin  ; 

Nay,  an  she  fail  me  once  —  You  can  tell,  Areas, 

She  swore,  by  wine  and  bread,  she  would  not  break. 

Ger.  An  eel  and  woman, 
A  learned  poet  says,  unless  by  the  tail 
And  with  thy  teeth  thou  hold,  will  either  fail. 
In  manners  this  was  false  position. 

J^z'rst  Coun.  A  fire  ill  take  her  1  does  she  flinch  now? 

Third  Coun.  What 

Shall  we  determine,  sir  ? 

Ger.  Nothing; 
Our  business  is  become  a  nullity, 
Yea,  and  a  woful  and  a  piteous  nullity. 

Fourth    Coun,  Now,  when  the  credit  of  our  town  lay 
on  it, 
Now  to  be  frampal,  now  to  piss  o'  the  nettle  ! 
Go  thy  ways  ;  I'll  remember  thee,  I'll  tit  thee  ! 

Enter  Gaoler's  Daughter,  and  szngs. 

The  George  alow  came  from  the  south. 

From  the  coast  of  Barbary-a ; 
And  there  he  met  with  brave  gallants  of  war, 

By  one,  by  two,  by  three-a. 

Well  hail'd,  well  hail'd,  you  jolly  gallante! 

And  whither  now  are  you  bound-a? 
O,  let  me  have  your  company 

Till  I  come  to  the  Sound-a ! 

There  was  three  fools  fell  out  about  an  howlet  : 

The  one  said  it  was  an  owl ; 

The  other  he  said  nay  ; 
The  third  he  said  it  was  a  hawk. 

And  her  bells  were  cut  away. 

Thi'rdCoun.  There's  a  dainty  mad  woman,  master. 
Come  i'  the  nick ;  as  mad  as  a  March  hare  : 
If  we  can  get  her  dance,  we're  made  again  ; 
I  warrant  her  she'll  do  the  rarest  gambols. 

Firsi  Coun.  A  mad  woman  !  we  are  made,  boys. 

^'H.  ?3A,  fT.N.K.  4ft 


^ci  ///.]  T//E  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  {S.»>u  r. 

Ger.  And  are  you  mad,  good  woman  ? 

Daugh.  Id  be  sorry  else 

Give  me  your  hand. 

Ger.  Wliy  ? 

Daitgh.  I  can  tell  your  ftjrlunr; 

You  are  a  fool.    Tell  ten,    I've  i)<)s'<i  him.     \\wji\ 
Friend,  you  must  cat  no  wliiic  bread  ;    if  you  do. 
Your  teeth  will  bleed  extremely.     Shall  wi-  (Ltiuc.  ho? 
I  know  you  ;    you're  a  tinker;  sirrah  linker. 
Stop  no  more  holes  but  what  you  should. 

Ger,  Dii  boHi! 

A  tinker,  damsel ! 

Daugh.  Or  a  conjurer : 

Raise  me  a  devil  now,  and  let  him  play 
Qui  passu  o'  the  bells  and  bones. 

Ger.  Go,  take  her. 

And  fluently  persuade  her  to  a  peace ; 
Et  opus  t'.vcg/,  quod  nee  Joz'is  ira,  ncc  ignis  — 
Strike  up  and  lead  her  in. 

Sec.  CouN.  Come,  lass,  let's  trip  it. 

Daugh.  I'll  lead. 

Third  Coun.  Do,  do.  \Iforn5  "winded  within. 

Ger.  Persuasively  and  cunningly  ;  away,  boys! 
I  hear  the  horns  :  give  me  some  metlitation, 
And  mark  your  cue.  {ExeufU  all  txcept  Gerrold. 

Pallas  inspire  me  ! 

^;//t7- Theseus,  Pirithous.  Hippoi.yta.  I-mh  i  a. 
ArcITE,  and  Train. 

Thes.  This  way  the  stag  took. 

Ger.  Stay  and  edify. 

Thes.  What  have  we  here? 

Pir.  Some  countr)' sport,  upon  my  life.  sir. 

Thes.  Well,  sir,  go  forward;  we  will  edify.— 
Ladies,  sit  down  :  we'll  stav  it. 

Ger.  Thou  doughty  duke,  all  hail  ?  All  hail,  sweet  Udics  I 

Thes.  This  is  a  cold  beginning. 

Ger.  If  you  but  favor,  our  country  pastime  madctl. 
We  are  a  few  of  those  collected  here, 
That  ruder  tongues  distinguish  villager; 
And,  to  say  verity  and  not  to  fable. 
We  are  a  merr)'  rout,  or  else  a  rablc, 

T.N.K.47)  VII.  38^ 


Act  l/l.]  THE  TWO  NCBLE  KINSMEH.  iScent  f . 

Or  company,  or,  by  a  figure,  choris. 

That  'fore  thy  dignity  will  dance  a  morris. 

And  I,  that  am  the  rectifier  of  all, 

By  \.\i\Q  pes d agogics,  that  let  fall 

The  birch  upon  the  breeches  of  the  small  ones, 

And  humble  with  a  ferula  the  tall  ones, 

Do  here  present  this  machine,  or  this  frame  : 

And,  dainty  duke,  whose  doughty  dismal  fame 

From  Disto  Daedalus,  from  post  to  pillar, 

Is  blown  abroad,  help  me,  thy  poor  well-wilier, 

And,  with  thy  twinkling  eyes,  look  right  and  straight 

Upon  this  mighty  nioj^r  —  of  mickle  weight  — 

Is  — now  comes  in,  which  being  glu'd  together 

Makes  7no?'ris,  and  the  cause  that  we  came  hither. 

The  body  of  our  sport,  of  no  small  study. 

I  first  appear,  though  rude  and  raw  and  muddy, 

Tj  speak,  before  thy  noble  grace,  this  tenner  ; 

At  whose  great  feet  I  offer  up  my  penner  . 

The  next,  the  Lord  of  r^Iay  and  Lady  bright, 

The  Chambermaid  and  Servingman,  by  night 

That  seek  out  silent  hanging :  then  mine  Host 

And  his  fat  spouse,  that  welcome  to  his  cost 

The  galled  traveler,  and  with  a  beck'ning 

Inform  the  tapster  to  inflame  the  reck'ning  : 

Then  the  beast-eating  Clown,  and  next  the  Fool, 

The  Bavian,  with  long  tail  and  eke  long  tool ; 

Cufn  mult  is  aliis  that  make  a  dance  : 

Say  "  Ay"  and  all  shall  presently  advance. 

Thes.  Ay,  ay,  by  any  means,  dear  domine* 

Pt7'.  Produce. 

Ger.  Intrate,filii ;  come  forth,  and  foot  it. 

Re-enter  the  four   Countrymen,    t/ie    Bavian,   i/ie  jfvt 

Wenches,  a7id  the  Taborer,    accoiiipaiiied  by  the 

Gaoler's  Daughter,  and  others  of  both  sexes. 

They  dance  a  morris. 

Ladies,  if  w^e  have  been  merry. 

And  have  pleas'd  ye  with  a  derry. 

And  a  derry,  and  a  down. 

Say  the  schoolmaster's  no  clown. 

Duke,  if  we  have  pleas'd  thee  too, 

And  have  done  as  good  boys  should  do, 

VII.  39<X  [t.N.K.  4i 


Actlll.\  THE  TU-n  KOHLE  KlS'SMF.ff.  [^^m,  I'i. 

Give  us  but  a  tree  or  twain 
For  a  Maypole,  and  again, 
Ere  another  year  run  out. 
We'll  make  thee  lauj^h.  and  all  ll..r.  nut. 
T//es.  Take  twenly,  domlnc— How  docs  my  swccL 

heart? 
///p.   Never  so  pleas'd,  sir. 

£m/.  'Twas  an  excellent  dance  ;  and  for  a  preface, 
I  never  heard  a  better. 

T/ies.  Schoolmaster,  I  thank  you.— 

One  see  'em  all  rewarded. 

^^'^''  And  here's  something  [G/7rs  monfy. 

To  paint  your  i)ole  withal. 

Thes.  Now  to  our  sports  again. 

Ger,  May  the  stag  thou  hunt'st  stand  long, 
And  thy  dogs  be  swift  and  strong! 
May  they  kill  him  without  lets. 
And  the  ladies  cnt  his  doucets  ! 

\Exeunt    Theseus,    Phithous,  Itippolyta^ 
Emilia,  Arcite,  and   Train.  I/hrns 
iL'i/idcii  as  tluy  i^o  out. 
Come,  we're  all  made.     Dii  Decrque  omnts  f 
Ye  have  danc'd  rarely,  wenches.  [/iv^unf. 

Scene  VI.     The  same  par/  of  the  forest  as  in  Scene  III. 
Enter  P. M.AMOS  from  the  bush. 
Pal.  About  this  hour  my  cousin  g.ive  his  faith 
To  visit  me  again,  and  with  him  bring 
Two  swords  and  two  good  armors  :  if  he  f.iil. 
He's  neither  man  nor  soldier.     W'iun  he  left  mc, 
I  did  not  tliink  a  week  couki  iiave  reslor'd 
My  lost  strength  to  me,  I  was  grown  so  low 
And  crest-fali'n  with  my  wants:  1  thank  thee,  Arcite, 
Thou'rt  yet  a  fair  foe;  and  I  feel  myself. 
With  this  refreshing,  able  once  again 
To  outdure  danger.     To  delay  it  Kwigcr 
Would  make  the  world  think.'  when  it  comes  to  hearing 
That  I  lay  fatting  like  a  swine,  to  fight. 
And  not  a  soldier :  therefore,  this  blest  morning 
Shall  be  the  last ;  and  that  sword  he  refuses. 
If  it  but  hold.  I  kill  him  with;  'tis  justice : 
So,  love  and  fortune  for  me? 

r.N.K.49.1  '.'II,.igi. 


Act  III.]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEX.  [Scene  VI. 

E7tter  Arcite  with  armors  and  swords. 

O,  good  morrow. 

Arc.  Good  morrow,  noble  kinsman. 

Pal.  I  have  put  you 

To  too  much  pains,  sir. 

Arc.  That  too  much,  fair  cousin, 

Is  but  a  debt  to  honor  and  my  duty. 

Pal.  Would  you  were  so  in  all,  sir!  I  could  wish  ye 
As  kind  a  kinsman  as  you  force  me  find 
A  beneficial  foe,  that  my  embraces 
Might  thank  ye,  not  my  blows. 

Arc.  I  shall  think  either, 

Well  done,  a  noble  recompense. 

Pal.  Then  I  shall  quit  you. 

Arc.  Defy  me  in  these  fair  terms,  and  you  show- 
More  than  a  mistress  to  me :  no  more  anger. 
As  you  love  any  thing  that's  honorable  : 
We  were  not  bred  to  talk,  man ;  when  w^e're  arm'd. 
And  both  upon  our  guards,  then  let  our  iury. 
Like  meeting  of  two  tides,  fly  strongly  from  us  ; 
And  then  to  whom  the  birthright  of  this  beauty 
Truly  pertains — without  upbraidings,  scorns, 
Despisings  of  our  persons,  and  such  poutings. 
Fitter  for  girls  and  schoolboys  —  will  be  seen. 
And  quickly,  yours  or  mine.       Wilt  please  you  arm,  sir? 
Or,  if  you  feel  yourself  not  fitting  yet, 
And  furnish'd  with  your  old  strength,  I'll  stay,  cousin. 
And  every  day  discourse  you  into  health. 
As  I  am  spar'd  :  your  person  I  am  friends  with ; 
And  I  could  wish  I  had  not  said  I  lov'd  her, 
Though  I  had  died  ;  but,  loving  such  a  lady. 
And  justifying  my  love,  I  must  not  fly  from't. 

Pal.  Arcite,  thou  art  so  brave  an  enemy. 
That  no  man  but  thy  cousin's  fit  to  kill  thee  : 
I'm  well  and  lusty;  choose  your  arms. 

Arc.  Choose  you,  sir. 

Pal.  Wilt  thou  exceed  in  all,  or  dost  thou  do  it 
To  make  me  spare  thee  ? 

Arc.  If  you  think  so,  cousin, 

You  are  deceiv'd  ;  for,  as  I  am  a  soldier, 
I  will  not  spare  you. 

VII.  392.  (t.n.k,  501 


Act ///.-]  THE  TWO  S'OBLE  KlSS.Ml  S. 

P<i^'  Thai's  well  sa;.!. 

^i^'''  You'll  find  it. 

Pa/.  Then,  as  I  am  an  honest  man.  and  love 
With  all  the  juslict-  of  affi-ciion, 
I'll  pay  thee  soundly.     This  I'll  lakr. 
,  ' ^'^  •  Thai's  mine.  then. 

I  II  arm  you  tirst.    [Procetiis  to  put  on  /\ih»iim's  armor, 

/*'?/.  I^o.     Tray  thee,  tell  me.  cousin. 

Where  gott'st  ihou  this  jjood  armor  ? 

^-irc.  'Tis  the  duke's; 

And,  to  say  true,  1  stoli'i       I).,  j  pinch  vou? 

P<iL      .  No. 

Arc.  Is't  not  too  heavy  ? 

PiiL  I  h.ivc  worn  a  lighter ; 

But  I  shall  make  it  sei  ve. 

A?c.  \'\\  buckle'l  close. 

Pa/.  By  any  means. 

.Ire.  You  care  not   for  a  grand-euard  ? 

Pa/.   No,  no;  we'll  use  no  horses:  I  pcrc 
You'd  fain  be  at  that  fight. 

.Ire.  I  am  indifferent. 

Pa/.  Faith,  so  am   I.      Good  cousin,  thrust  the  buckle 
Through  far  enough. 

Arc.  I  warrant  you. 

Pa/.  .My  casque  now. 

Are.  Will  you  fight  bare-arm 'd  } 

Pa/.  We  shall  be  the  nimbler. 

Arc.  Hut  use  your  g.umtlels  though  :   those  arc  o'  the 
least ; 
Prithee,  take  mine,  good  cousin. 

Pa/.  Thank  you,  Arciie. 

How  do  I  look?  am  I  fall'n  mueh  aw.iy  ? 

ylrc.  F.iilh,  very  little;  Lo\e  h.is  us'd  you  kindly. 

Pa/.    I'll  w.irr.uil  thee  I'll  strike  home. 

,  // , .  Do,  and  spare  not 

I'll  .i4i\c  you  cause,  sweet  cousin. 

Pa/.  Now  to  you.  sir. 

[/';.  '  ut  on  Arctt/s  armiyr, 

Methinks  this  armor's  \  <  i.  Arcitr. 

Thou  wor'st  that  day  th<-  i    ;>  ■    .    s'^'i  fell,  bi  *  '     ''  "   - 

Arc.  That  was  a  very  good  mu-  :  .md  th 
I  well  remejiibcr.  you  outdid  mr.  »    •     • 
T.N.K51I  VII.  »)> 


Act  III.]  THE  T]VG  NOBLE  KINSMEN,  [Scene  1^1. 

I  never  saw  such  valor  :  when  you  charg'd 
Upon  the  left  wing  of  the  enemy, 
I  spurr'd  hard  to  come  up,  and  under  me 
I  had  a  right  good  horse. 

Fa/.  You  had  indeed ; 

A  bright  bay,  I  remember. 

Arc.  Yes.     But  all 

Was  vainly  labor'd  in  me ;  you  outwent  me. 
Nor  could  my  wishes  reach  you  :  yet  a  little 
I  did  by  imitation. 

Pa/.  More  by  virtue  ; 

You're  modest,  cousin. 

Arc.  When  I  saw  you  charge  first, 

Methought  I  heard  a  dreadful  clap  of  thunder 
Break  from  the  troop. 

Fa/.  But  still  before  that  flew 

The  lightning  of  your  valor.     Stay  a  little  : 
Is  not  this  piece  too  strait  ? 

Arc.  No,  no ;  'tis  well. 

Fa/.   I  would  have  nothing  hurt  thee  but  my  sword; 
A  bruise  would  be  dishonor. 

Arc.  Now  I'm  perfect. 

Fa/.  Stand  off,  then. 

Arc.  Take  my  sword  ;    I  hold  it  better. 

Fa/.  I  thank  ye,  no  ;  keep  it ;  your  life  lies  on  it : 
Here's  one,  if  it  but  hold,  I  ask  no  more 
For  all  my  hopes.     My  cause  and  honor  guard  me  ! 

Arc.   And  me  my  love  ! 

[  They  bow  sever  a/  iua,ys  ;  then  advance  and  standi 
Is  there  aught  else  to  say  ? 

Pa/.  This  only,  and  no  more.    Thou  art  mine  aunt's  son, 
And  that  blood  we  desire  to  shed  is  mutual ; 
In  me  thine,  and  in  thee  mine  :  my  sword 
Is  in  my  hand,  and,  if  thou  killest  me, 
The  gods  and  I  forgive  thee :  if  there  be 
A  place  prepar'd  for  those  that  sleep  in  honor, 
I  wish  his  weary  soul  that  falls  may  win  it. 
Fight  bravely,  cousin  :  give  me  thy  noble  hand. 

Arc.  Here,  Palamon  :  this  hand  shall  never  more 
Come  near  thee  with  such  friendship. 

Fa/.  I  commend  thee. 

Arc.  If  I  fall,  curse  me,  and  say  I  was  a  coward ; 

VII.  304.  [t.n.k   5a 


Actirr.-]  T!/F.  TUO  XOni.E  KIKSMEff.  iS.tm0  V/ 

For  none  but  such  dare  die  in  these  just  trials. 
Once  more,  farewell,  my  cousin. 

Pal.  Fart-wrll,  Arcitr. 

\Thcy  flight.     Horns  u't'itiiftf  icit/iin :   tluy  itan<L 

Arc.  Lo,  cousin,  lo  !  our  folly  has  undone  us. 

PaL  Why.^ 

Arc.  This  is  the  duke,  a-huntinj;  as  I  told  you ; 
If  we  be  found,  we're  wretched  ;  O.  retire, 
For  honor's  sake  and  safety,  presently 
Into  your  bush  again,  sir;  we  sliall  fmd 
Too  many  hours  to  die  in.     Gontle  cousin. 
If  you  be  seen,  you  perish  instantly 
For  breakin«^  prison  ;  and  I,  if  you  reveal  me. 
For  my  contempt :  then  all  the  world  will  scorn  US» 
And  say  we  had  a  noble  difference, 
But  base  disposers  of  it. 

Pal.  No.  no,  cousin  ; 

I  will  no  more  be  hidden,  nor  put  off 
This  great  adventure  to  a  secoiul  trial : 
I  know  your  cunning  and  I  know  your  cause  : 
He  that  faints  now,  shame  take  him  !     Put  thyself 
Upon  thy  present  guard, — 

Arc.  You  are  not  mail  ? 

PaL  Or  I  will  make  th' advantage  of  this  hour 
Mine  own  ;  and  what  to  come  shall  threaten  me, 
I  fear  less  than  my  fortune.     Know,  weak  cousin, 
I  love  Emilia;  and  in  that  I'll  bur}' 
Thee,  and  all  crosses  else. 

-/;r.  Then,  come  what  can  come. 

Thou  shalt  know,  Palamon.  1  dare  as  well 
Die  as  discourse  or  sleep !  only  this  fears  me. 
The  law  will  have  the  honor  of  our  ends. 
Have  at  thy  life  ! 

PaL  Look  to  thine  own  well.  Arcite. 

[  Thn'fi:fit.    Horns  icinikii  within. 

Enter    Theseus,    Hippolyta.    Kmilia,    Pikithou^ 
and  Train. 

Thcs.  What  ignorant  and  mad-malicious  tniitorf 
Are  you.  that,  g^iinst  llie  tenor  of  my  laws. 
Are  making  battle,  thus  like  knights  appomtcd. 

r.N.K.53.1  VII.  39*. 


Act  II I. "l  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  \Scene  VI. 

Without  my  leave,  and  officers  of  arms? 
By  Castor,  both  shall  die. 

Pal.  Hold  thy  word,  Theseus  : 

We're  certainly  both  traitors,  both  despisers 
Of  thee  and  of  thy  goodness  :  I  am  Palamon, 
That  cannot  love  thee,  he  that  broke  thy  prison  ; 
Think  well  what  that  deserves ;  and  this  is  Arcite; 
A  bolder  traitor  never  trod  thy  ground, 
A  falser  ne'er  seem'd  friend  :  this  is  the  man 
Was  begg'd  and  banish'd :  this  is  he  contemns  thee 
And  what  thou  dar'st  do ;  and  in  this  disguise, 
Against  thy  own  edict,  follows  thy  sister, 
That  fortunate  bright  star,  the  fair  Emilia  ; 
Whose  servant  —  if  there  be  a  right  in  seeing. 
And  first  bequeathing  of  the  soul  to  —  justly 
I  am ;  and,  which  is  more,  dares  think  her  his. 
This  treachery,  like  a  most  trusty  lover, 
I  call'd  him  now  to  answer :  if  thou  be'st. 
As  thou  art  spoken,  great  and  virtuous. 
The  true  decider  of  all  injuries, 

Say  "  Fight  again  ! "  and  thou  shalt  see  me,  Theseus, 
Do  such  a  justice  thou  thyself  wilt  envy  : 
Then  take  my  life;  I'll  woo  thee  to't. 

Pir.  0  heaven, 

What  more  than  man  is  this ! 

Thes.  I've  sworn. 

Arc,  We  seek  noi 

Thy  breath  of  mercy,  Theseus  :  'tis  to  me 
A  thing  as  soon  to  die  as  thee  to  say  it. 
And  no  more  mov'd.     Where  this  man  calls  me  traitor. 
Let  me  say  thus  much :  if  in  love  be  treason, 
In  service  of  so  excellent  a  beauty, 
As  I  love  most,  and  in  that  faith  will  perish. 
As  I  have  brought  my  life  here  to  confirm  it. 
As  I  have  serv'd  her  truest,  worthiest, 
As  I  dare  kill  this  cousin  that  denies  it, 
So  let  me  be  most  traitor,  and  ye  please  me. 
For  scorning  thy  edict,  duke,  ask  that  lady 
Why  she  is  fair,  and  why  her  eyes  command  me 
Stay  here  to  love  her;  and,  if  she  say  "  traitor," 
I  am  a  villain  fit  to  lie  unburied. 

Pal.  Thou  shalt  have  pity  of  us  both,  O  Theseus, 

VII.  396.  [T.N.ie.  54. 


Aci///.]  77/ E  TWO  NOBLE  KfXSME.S'.  \fi,4m,  T/. 

If  unto  neither  thou  show  mercy;  stop. 

As  thou  art  just,  thy  noble  ear  against  us; 

As  thou  art  valiant,  for  thy  cousin's  soul. 

Whose  twelve  strong  labors  crown  his  memory. 

Let's  die  together,  at  one  instant,  duke; 

Only  a  little  let  him  fall  before  me. 

That  I  may  teli  n^y  soul  he  shall  not  have  her. 

77it's.  I  grant  your  wish  ;    for,  to  say  true,  your  cousin 
Has  ten  times  more  offended,  for  I  gave  him 
More  mercy  than  you  found,  sir,  vour  ofTenst-s 
Being  no  more  than  his. —  None  lure  speak  for  'cm; 
For,  ere  the  sun  set,  both  shall  sleep  for  ever. 

Hip.  Alas,  the  pity  ! —  Now  or  never,  sister. 
Speak,  not  to  be  denied  :  that  face  of  yours 
Will  bear  the  curses  else  of  after-ages 
For  these  lost  cousins. 

Emi.  In  my  face,  dear  sister, 

I  find  no  anger  to  'em.  nor  no  ruin  ; 
The  misadventure  of  their  own  eyes  kill  'em: 
Yet  that  I  will  be  woman  and  have  pity. 
My  knees  shall  grow  to  the  ground  but  I'll  get  mercy. 
Help  me,  dear  sister :  in  a  deed  so  virtuous 
The  powers  of  all  women  will  be  with  us. — 
Most  royal  brother,—  [  Thrv  kn44U 

Hip.  '  Sir,  by  our  tie  of  marriage. — 

Emi.  By  your  own  spotless  honor, — 

Hip.  Hy  that  faith. 

That  fair  hand,  and  that  honest  heart  you  gave  me,— 

Emi.  By  that  you  would  have  pity  in  another. 
By  your  own  virtues  infinite, — 

Hip.  By  valor. 

By  all  the  chaste  nights  I  have  ever  plcas'd  you.— 

Thes.  These  are  strange  conjurings. 

Pir,  Nay,  then.  I'll  in  too: —    [A1 

By  all  our  friendship,  sir.  by  all  our  dangers. 
By  all  you  love  most.  wars,  and  this  sweet  ladv,— 

Emi.  V>\  that  you  would  have  trembled  lo  deny 
A  blushing  maid, — 

//;y^.  By  your  own  eves,  by  strength. 

In  which  you  swore  1  went  beyond  all  women. 
Almost  all  men,  ^nd  yet  I  yielded,  Theseus,-- 

TN.K.55.]  VII.   ;j7 


Act  HI. \  THE   TWO  XOBLE  KINSMEN.  {Scene  ^A 

Per.  To  crown  all  this,  by  your  most  noble  soul. 
Which  cannot  v/ant  due  mercy,  I  beg  first. 

///j^.  Next,  hear  my  prayers. 

Bmi.  Last,  let  me  entreat,  sin 

F/r.  For  mercy. 

///p.  '   Mercy. 

-S"////.  Mercy  on  these  princes. 

TAes.  Ye  make  my  faith  reel :  say  I  felt 
Compassion  to  'em  both,  how  would  you  place  it  ? 

£:m'.  Upon  their  lives ;  but  with  their  banishments. 

T/ies.  You're  a  right  woman,  sister;  you  have  pity, 
But  want  the  understanding  where  to  use  it. 
If  you  desire  their  lives,  invent  a  way 
Safer  than  banishment :  can  these  two  live, 
And  have  the  agony  of  love  about  'em, 
And  not  kill  one  another  .-•  every  day 
They'd  fight  about  you  :  hourly  bring  j-our  honor 
In  public  question  with  their  swords.     Be  wise,  then, 
And  here  forget  'em  ;  it  concerns  your  credit 
And  my  oath  equally;  I've  said  they  die: 
Better  they  fall  by  the  law  than  one  another. 
Bow  not  my  honor. 

^w/.  O  my  noble  brother, 

That  oath  was  rashly  made,  and  in  your  anger; 
Your  reason  will  not  hold  it :  if  such  vows 
Stand  for  express  will,  all  the  world  must  perish. 
Beside,  I  have  another  oath  'gainst  yours, 
Of  more  authority,  I'm  sure  more  love  ; 
Not  made  in  passion  neither,  but  good  heed. 

T/u's.  What  is  it,  sister  ? 

Pir.  Urge  it  home,  brave  lady* 

Emi.  That  you  would  ne'er  deny  me  any  thing 
Fit  for  my  modest  suit  and  your  free  granting : 
I  tie  you  to  your  word  now ;  if  ye  fail  in't, 
Think  how  you  maim  your  honor, — 
For  now  I'm  set  a-begging,  sir,  I'm  deaf 
To  all  but  your  compassion  :  how  their  lives 
Might  breed  the  ruin  of  my  name's  opinion ! 
Shall  any  thing  that  loves  me  perish  for  me  ? 
That  were  a  cruel  wisdom  :  do  men  proin 
The  straight  young  boughs  that  blush  with   thousand 
blossoms, 

VII.  398.  fr.N.K.  56. 


Act  f II.-]  THE  Tiro  XOniE  K/NSMEX 

Because  they  may  he  rotten?     O  Dukr  Th«s'  i.n. 
The  goodly  mothers  that  have  groan'd  for  these. 
And  all  the  longing  maids  that  ever  lov'd  ilum. 
If  your  vow  stand,  shall  curse  me  and  my  hrauly. 
And  in  their  funeral  songs  for  these  two  cousins 
Despise  my  cruelty,  and  cry  woe-worth  me. 
Till  I  am  nothing  hut  the  scorn  of  women. 
For  heaven's  sake  save  their  lives,  and  banish  Vm. 

T/it's.  On  what  conditions? 

Emz.  Swear  Vm  never  more 

To  make  me  their  contention  or  to  know  me. 
To  tread  upon  thy  dukedom,  and  to  he. 
Wherever  they  shall  travel,  ever  strangers 
To  one  another. 

Pa/.  I'll  he  cut  a-pircrs 

Before  I  take  this  oath  :  forget  I  love  her  ? 

0  all  ye  gods,  despise  me.  then.     Tliy  banishment 

1  not  mislike,  so  we  may  f.iirly  carry 

Our  swords  and  cause  along;  else,  never  trifle, 
But  take  our  lives,  duke  :  1  must  love,  and  will ; 
And  for  that  love  must  and  dare  kill  this  cousin. 
On  any  piece  the  earth  has. 

T/it's.  ^^'iII  you.  Arcile, 

Take  these  conditions  ? 

Pal.  He's  a  villain,  then. 

Pi'r.  These  are  men  ! 

.Ire.  No,  never,  duke  ;  'tis  worse  to  me  than  begging. 
To  take  my  life  so  basely.     Though  I  think 
I  never  shall  enjoy  her.  yet  Til  preser\e 
The  honor  of  affection,  and  die  for  her, 
Make  death  a  devil. 

T/irs.  What  may  be  done?  ior  now  I  feel  conin-iv^joiw 

Pir.  Let  it  not  fall  again,  sir. 

T/u's.  Say,  Emilia. 

If  one  of  them  were  dead,  as  one  must,  are  you 
Content  to  take  the  other  to  your  husband  ? 
They  cannot  both  enjoy  you :  they  are  nrinces 
As  goodly  as  your  own  eyes,  and  as  noble 
As  ever  fame  yet  spoke  of :  look  upon  Vm. 
And,  if  you  can  love,  end  this  difference  : 
I  give  consent. —  Are  you  content  loo.  princes  r 

T.N.K.  57-1  VH.  3/) 


Actlll.l  THE  TIVO  NOBLE  KINSMEN,  ISceneyi. 

^fj  \  With  all  our  souls. 

Thes.  He  that  she  refuses 

Must  die,  then. 

f  '  (•  Any  death  thou  canst  invent,  duke. 

Pal.  If  I  fall  from  that  mouth,  I  fall  with  favor, 
And  lovers  yet  unborn  shall  bless  my  ashes. 

Arc.  If  she  refuse  me,  yet  my  grave  will  wed  me. 
And  soldiers  sing  my  epitaph. 

T/ies.  Make  choice,  then. 

Emi.  I  cannot,  sir ;  they're  both  too  excellent : 
For  me,  a  hair  shall  never  fall  of  these  men. 

Hip.  What  will  become  of  'em  } 

Thes.  Thus  I  ordain  it ; 

And,  by  mine  honor,  once  again  it  stands. 
Or  both  shall  die. —  You  shall  both  to  your  country  ; 
And  each,  within  this  month,  accompanied 
With  three  fair  knights,  appear  again  in  this  place. 
In  which  I'll  plant  a  pyramid  ;  and  whether. 
Before  us  that  are  here,  can  force  his  cousin 
By  fair  and  knightly  strength  to  touch  the  pillar, 
He  shall  enjoy  her  ;  th'  other  lose  his  head, 
And  all  his  friends  ;  nor  shall  he  grudge  to  fall. 
Nor  think  he  dies  with  interest  in  this  lady. 
Will  this  content  ye  ? 

Pal.  Yes. —  Here,  cousin  Arcite, 

I'm  friends  again  till  that  hour. 

Arc.  I  embrace  ye. 

T/ies.  Are  you  content,  sister  } 

Emi.  Yes  ;  I  must,  sir ; 

Else  both  miscarry. 

T/ies.  Come,  shake  hands  again,  then ; 

And  take  heed,  as  you're  gentlemen,  this  quarrel 
Sleep  till  the  hour  prefix'd,  and  hold  your  course. 

Pal.  We  dare  not  fail  thee,  Theseus. 

Thes.  Come,  I'll  give  ye 

Now  usage  like  to  princes  and  to  friends. 
When  ye  return,  who  wins,  I'll  settle  here  ; 
Who  loses,  yet  I'll  weep  upon  his  bier.  [Exeunt, 


VII.  400.  [t.n.k.  s& 


A.'Uy.}  THE  T\iO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  \fiitmL 

ACT  IV. 

Scene  I.   Ai/iins.  A  room  in  tiu prium. 

Enttf  Gaoler  and  Fifbl  Friend. 

Gaolt-r.   Hear  you  no  more  ?  was  nothing  said  of  mc 
Concerninjr  the  escape  of  I'alamon  ? 
Good  sir,  remember. 

First  Fritnd.   Nothing  thai  I  hc.ird ; 
For  I  came  home  before  the  Inisincss 
Was  fully  ended  :  yet  1  mi^ht  perceive. 
Ere  1  dei)arled,  a  great  likelihood 
Of  both  their  pardons;  for  Hippolyla 
And  fair-ey'd  Emily  ujion  their  knees 
Begj^'d  with  such  handsonu-  i)ity.  that  the  duke 
Methought  stood  staggering  whether  he  should  follow 
His  rash  oath,  or  the  sweet  c  impassion 
Of  those  two  ladies  ;  and  to  second  them, 
That  truly  noble  prince  ririlhous, 
Half  his  own  heart,  set  in  too,  that  1  hope 
All  shall  be  well  :  neither  heard  I  one  question 
Of  your  name  or  his  scape. 

Gaoler.  Pray  heaven,  it  hold  so! 

Enter  Second  Friend. 

Sec.  Friend.  IJe  of  good  comfort,  man  :  1  bring   )-o« 
news. 
Good  news. 

Gaoler.  They're  welcome. 

Sec.  Friend.  Palamon  I...-.  ^  .< ...  ,.  >.«. 

And  got  your  pardon,  and  discovert!  how 
And    by    whose     means   he    scap'd.    which    x^ '^   *   ui 

daughter's. 
Whose  pardon  isi)rocur*d  too;  ant!  \\x  nris-  net  — 
Not  to  l)e  held  ungrateful  to  her  ; 
Has  given  a  sum  of  money  to  her 
A  large  one,  I'll  assure  you. 

Gaoler.  YcVe  a  goo<l  man. 

And  ever  bring  good  news. 

First  Friend.  I  low  was  it  ended  f 

T.N.IC.SO^l  VII    40U 


Act  I  V.I  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  [Scene/. 

Sifc.   Friend.  Why,  as  it   should  be  ;  they   that  never 
begg'd 
But  they  prevail'd,  had  their  suits  fairly  granted  : 
The  prisoners  have  their  lives. 

First  Friend.  I  knew  'twould  be  so. 

Sec.  Frie?id.  But  there  be  new  conditions,  which  you'll 
hear  of. 
At  better  time. 

Gaoler.         I  hope  they're  good. 

Sec.   Friend.  They're  honorable  : 

How  good  they'll  prove,    I  know  not 

First  Frie7id.  'Twill  be  known. 

Enter  Wooer. 

Wooer.  Alas,  sir,  where's  your  daughter  ? 

Gaoler.  Why  do  you  ask  ? 

Wooer.  O,  sir,  when  did  you  see  her  ? 

Sec.  Frie7id.  How  he  looks  ! 

Gaoler.  This  morning. 

Wooer.  Was  she  well  .''  was  she  in  health,  sir  ? 

W^hen  did  she  sleep  .'* 

First  Friend .  These  are  strange  questions. 

Gaoler.  I  do  not  think  she  was  ver}^  well ;  for,  now 
You  make  me  mind  her,  but  this  ver}'  day 
I  ask'd  her  questions,  and  she  answer'd  me 
So  far  from  what  she  was,  so  childishly. 
So  sillily,  as  if  she  were  a  fool, 
An  innocent  ;  and  I  was  very  angr}'. 
But  what  of  her,  sir  ? 

Wooer.  Nothing  but  my  pity  : 

But  you  must  know  it,  and  as  good  by  me 
As  by  another  that  less  loves  her. 

Gaoler.  Well,  sir  ? 

First  Friend.   Not  right  ? 

Sec.  Friend.  Not  well  ? 

JVooer.  No,  sir  ;  not  well  : 

Tis  too  true,  she  is  mad. 

First  Friend.  It  cannot  be. 

Wooer.    Believe,  you'll  find  it  so. 

Gaoler.  I  half  suspected 

What  you  have  told  me  ;  the  gods  comfort  her  1 
Either  this  was  her  love  to  Palamon, 

VII.  402.  [t.n.k.  69, 


Act  II '.]  TIIK  T41  O  SOBL E  KtSSULN.  iS,,mt  i. 

Or  fear  of  my  miscarryin;r  on  his  scnnr. 
Or  both.  ' 

Wooer.  'Tis  likt-Iy. 

Gaoler.  Hut  why  all  this  \\.. 

Wooer.  I'll  tell  you  quickly.     As  I  l.iir 
In  the  great  lake  that  lies  behind  the  j).ila< « . 
From  the  far'  shore,  thick  set  with  reeds  and  sedges. 
As  patiently  I  was  attending  sport. 
(  heard  a  voice,  a  shrill  one  ;  and  attentive 
i  gave  my  ear  ;  when  I  mij^lu  well  perceive 
Twas  one  that  sung.  and.  by  the  smallncss  of  it. 
A  boy  or  woman,     I  then  left  my  angle 
To  his  own  skill,  came  near,  but  yet  percei\  "d  not 
Who  made  the  sound,  the  rushes  and  the  reeds 
Had  so  encompass'd  it :  I  laid  me  down. 
And  listen 'd  to  the  words  she  sung  ;   for  then, 
Through  a  small  glade  cut  by  the  fishermen. 
I  saw  it  was  your  daughter. 

Gaoler.  Pray,  go  on.  sir. 

Wooer.  She   sung  much,  but  no  sense;  only  I  heard 
her 
Repeat  this  often,  "  Palamon  is  gone. 
Is  gone  to  the  wood  to  gather  mulberries  ; 
I'll  find  him  out  to-morrow." 

First  Frietul.  Pre  1 1  y  so  u  I  ! 

Wooer.  "  His  shackles  will  betray  him,  he'll  be  taken | 
And  what  shall  I  do  then  ?  I'll  brin-  .1  1..  .  , 
A  hundred  black-ey'd  maids  th.it 
With  chai)lets  on  their  heads  of  <■ 
With  cherry  lips,  and  cheeks  of  damask  rt>scs. 
And  all  we'll  dance  an  antic  'fore  the  duke. 
And  beg  his  pardon."     Then  she  talk'd  of  nou.  sir; 
That  you  must  lose  your  head  to-morrow  morning. 
And  she  must  gather  flowers  to  bur)-  you. 
And  see  the  house  made  handsome.  Then  she  sung 
Nothing  but  "  Willow,  willow,  willow  ;  "  and  lielwecn 
Ever  was.  "  Palamon.  fair  Palamon." 
And  "  Palamon  was  a  tall  young  mar  "  '"  -  -'ice 
Was  knee-deep  w  here  she  sat  :  her  »  ^st* 

A  wreath  of  bulrush  rounded  ;  about  ... 
Thousand  fresh  water-flowirs  of  several  i.      t-  ; 
That  methought  she  appear'd  likr  thr  f.iii  r.Mnph 

V.N.K.  61.]  VII.   4     V 


^ctlV.']  THE  TWO  NOBLE  kinsmen:  iScene /, 

That  feeds  the  lake  with  waters,  or  as  Iris 

Newly  dropt  down  from  heaven.     Rings  she  made 

Of  rushes  that  grew  by,  and  to  'em  spoke 

The  prettiest  posies,—  "  Thus  our  true  love's  tied," 

"  This  you  may  loose,  not  me,"  and  many  a  one  ; 

And  then  she  wept,  and  sung  again,  and  sigh'd, 

And  with  the  same  breath  smil'd,  and  kiss'd  her  hand. 

S^c.  Frieiid.  Alas,  what  pity  'tis  ! 

Wooer.  I  made  in  to  her  : 

She  saw  me,  and  straight  sought  the  flood ;   I  sav'd  her, 
And  set  her  safe  to  land  :  when  presently 
She  slipt  away,  and  to  the  city  made, 
With  such  a  cr}',  and  swiftness,  that,  believe  me. 
She  left  me  far  behind  her.     Three  or  four 
I  saw  from  far  off  cross  her,  one  of  'em 
I  knew  to  be  your  brother  ;  where  she  stay'd. 
And  fell,  scarce  to  be  got  away  :  I  left  them  with  her, 
And  hither  came  to  tell  you.     Here  they  are. 

Enter  QtZ.o\tx's  Brother,  Gaoler's  Daughter,  iZ^wT  <?//^^A 

Daugh.  \sings'\ 

May  you  never  more  enjoy  the  light,  &c. 

Is  not  this  a  fine  song  ? 

Broth.  O,  a  very  fine  one ! 

Daugh,  I  can  sing  twenty  more. 

Broth.  I  think  you  can. 

Daugh.  Yes,  truly,  can  I  ;  I  can  sing  The  Broom 
And  BotDiy  Robin.     Are  not  you  a  tailor  ? 

Broth,  Yes. 

Daugh.        Where's  my  wedding  gown  ? 

Broth.  I'll  bring't  to-morrow. 

Daugh.  Do,  very  rearly ;  I  must  be  abroad  else. 
To  call  the  maids  and  pay  the  minstrels; 
For  I  must  lose  my  maidenhead  by  cock-light  ; 
'Twill  never  thrive  else. 

O  fair,  O  sweet,  &:c.  [Sings, 

Broth.  You  must  even  take  it  patiently. 
Gaoler.  'Tis  true. 

Daugh.  Good  even,  good  men.  Pray,  did  you  ever  hear 
Of  one  young  Palamon  ? 

VII.  404.  [t.n.k.  63. 


Act  /r.1  Tlir.   TWO  NOBLE  KiNSMKN 

Gaoler.  Yes,  wench,  we  know  him. 

Danish.  Is't  iKJt  a  fine  young  gentleman  ? 

GaoUr,  'Tis  love  I 

Broth.  By  no  means  cross  her :   she  is  then  distem* 
jjcr'd 
Far  worse  than  now  she  shows. 

First  Frinid.  Yes.  he's  a  fine  man. 

Daugh.  O,  is  he  so  ?     You  have  a  sister  ? 

First  FrifHii. 

Daui^/i.   But  she  shall  never  have  him,  U 
For  a  trick  that  I  know  :  y'  had  best  look  t 
For,  if  she  see  him  once,  she's  ^'one  ;  she's  . 
And  undone  in  an  hour.     All  iheytiung  m.iui:» 
Of  our  town  are  in  love  with  him  :  but  I  laugh  at  Vm, 
And  let  'em  all  alone  ;  is't  not  a  wise  course  ? 

First  Friend.  Yes. 

Daiigh.  There  is  at  least  two  hundred  now  xsiti  cr::;u 
by  him, — 
There  must  be  four;  yet  I  keep  close  for  all  this. 
Close  as  a  cockle  ;  and  all  these  must  be  boys, — 
He  has  the  trick  on't ;  and  at  ten  years  old 
They  must  be  all  gelt  for  musicians. 
And  sing  the  wars  of  Theseus. 

Sec.  Friend.  This  is  strange. 

Diuigh.  As  ever  you  heard  :  but  s;»y  nothing. 

First  Friend.  No. 

Daiigh.  They  come  from  all  parts  of  the  dukedom  to 
him  ; 
I'll  warrant  yc  he  had  not  so  few  last  night 
As  twenty  to  dispatch;  he'll  tickle'l  up 
In  two  hours,  if  his  hand  be  in. 

Gaoler.  She's  lost. 

Past  all  cure. 

Broth.  Heaven  forbid,  man  ! 

Vaui;h.  Come  hither;  you're  a  wise  man. 

First  Friend.  Does  she  know  hid  ? 

Sec.  Friend.  No,  would  she  did  I 

Da  lijr/i .  You  're  m  aster  o(  a  fthip  f 

Gaoler.  Yes. 

Daw-h.         Where's  your  compass  ? 

GaSler.  }^^^'      .  . 

Daugh.  Set  a  to  Ibe  north; 

rj^J.K'  «3.l  VII.  JDS. 


Act  IF.)  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN,  {Scene  //. 

And  now  direct  your  course  to  the  wood,  where  Palamcn 

Lies  longing  for  me  ;  for  the  tackling 

Let  me  alone  :  come,  weigh,  my  hearts,  cheerly  * 

All.  Owgh,  owgh,  owgh  !  'tis  up,  the  wind  is  fair  : 
Top  the  bowling ;   out  with  the  main-sail  : 
Where's  your  whistle,  master  ? 

Brotk.  Let's  get  her  in. 

Gaoler.  Up  to  the  top,  boy  t 

Brot/u  Where's  the  pilot  ? 

First  Friend.  Here. 

Daiigh,  What  kenn'st  thou  ? 

Sec.  Friend.  A  fair  wood. 

Daiigh.  Bear  for  it,  master; 

Tack  about ! 

When  Cynthia  with  her  borrow'd  light,  (Sec.        ySings. 

\Exetint. 

Scene  IL  Athens.  An  apartment  in  the  palace. 

Enter  EMILIA  with  two  pictures. 

Emi.  Yet  I  may  bind  those  wounds  up,  that  must  opcQ 
And  bleed  to  death  for  my  sake  else  ;  Til  choose, 
And  end  their  strife  :  two  such  young  handsome  men 
Shall  never  fall  for  me ;  their  weeping  mothers, 
Following  the  dead-cold  ashes  of  their  sons. 
Shall  never  curse  my  cruelty.     Good  heaven, 
What  a  sweet  face  has  i\rcite  I    If  wise  Nature, 
With  all  her  best  endowments,  all  those  beauties 
She  sows  into  the  births  of  noble  bodies, 
Were  here  a  mortal  woman,  and  had  in  her 
The  coy  denials  of  young  maids,  yet  doubtless 
She  would  run  mad  for  this  man  :  what  an  eye. 
Of  what  a  fiery  sparkle  and  quick  sweetness, 
Has  this  young  prince  !  here  Love  himself  sits  sm.iling; 
Just  such  another  wanton  Ganymede 
Set  Jove  a-fire  with,  and  enforc'd  the  god 
Snatch  up  the  goodly  boy,  and  set  him  by  him, 
A  shining  constellation  :  what  a  brow. 
Of  what  a  spacious  majesty,  he  carries, 
Arch'd  like  the  great-ey'd  Juno's,  but  far  sweeter, 
Smoother  than  Pelops'  shoulder  !     Fame  and  Honor, 
Methinks,  from  hence,  as  from  a  promontory 

VII.  4o5.  tT.N.K.64, 


^ct  /r.]  THE  Til  O  NOBL  E  KINSMBH.  (A^  n. 

Pointed  in  heaven,  should  clap  their  wines,  and  f^fw> 

To  all  the  under-world,  thi-  loves  and  fights 

Of  gods,  and  such  men  near  Vm.     Pal.ui;.  !i 

Is  but  his  foil ;  to  him,  a  mere  dull  sh; '' 

He's  swarth  and  meager,  of  an  eye  as  !• 

As  if  he  had  lost  his  mother;  a  still  ten...... 

No  stirring  in  him,  no  alairily; 

Of  all  this  sprightly  sharpness,  not  a  smile;  — 

Yet  these  that  we  count  err(*rs  may  become  him  : 

Narcissus  was  a  sad  hoy,  but  a  heavenly. 

O,  who  can  fmd  the  bent  of  woman's  fancy? 

I  am  a  fool,  my  reason  is  lost  in  mc ; 

I  have  no  choice,  and  I  have  lied  so  lewdly 

That  women  ought  to  beat  me.     On  my  knees 

I  ask  pardon,  Palamon  ;  thou  art  .  '       '. 

And  only  beautiful;  and  these  llr. 

These  the  bright  lamj)s  of  be.iuly.  i,  ..i  .  ..mir.ii.d 

And  threaten  Love  ;  and  what  young  maid  dare  cross  'c»l 

What  a  bold  gravity,  and  yet  inviting. 

Has  this  brown  n\inly  face !     O  Love,  this  only 

From  this  hour  is  com|)Iexion.     Lie  there,  Arcitc; 

Thou  art  a  changeling  to  him,  a  mere  g\  psy. 

And  this  the  noble  body.     I  am  sotted. 

Utterly  lost ;  my  virgin  faith  has  fled  inc. 

For.  if  my  brother  but  even  now  had  ask'd  me 

Whether  I  lov'd,  I  had  run  mad  for  Arciic; 

Now  if  my  S-ister,  more  for  Palamon. — 

Stand  l)oth  together.—  Now.  come,  ask  me.  brother  ;  — 

Alas,  I  know  not !  — Ask  me  now.  sweet  sister;  — 

I  may  go  look  !  — What  a  mere  child  is  f.inry. 

That,  having  two  fair  gauds  of  equal  swrelnrSS, 

Cannot  (hstinguish,  but  must  cr)-  for  l)oih  ! 

Frtfrr  a  Gentleman. 

How  now,  sir! 

Ge^if.  From  the  noble  duke  vour  brother. 

Madam,  I  bring  you  news:  the  knights  arc  come. 

Em:.  To  end  the  quarrel  } 

GiUt.  N'es. 

Knii.  Would  I  might  end  first ' 

What  sins  have  I  cotnniitted.  chaste  Dian.i. 
That  my  unspotted  youth  niust  now  be  soiPd 
T.w.K.  65.]  VM.  407. 


^ctlV.I  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  [Scene II, 

With  blood  of  princes,  and  my  chastity- 
Be  made  the  altar  where  the  lives  of  lovers — 
Two  greater  and  two  better  never  yet 
Made  mothers  joy  —  must  be  the  sacrifice 
To  my  unhappy  beauty  ? 

Enter  THESEUS,  Hippolyta,  Pirithous,  a?td  Attend- 
ants. 

Thes.  Bring  'em  in 

Quickly  by  any  means ;  I  long  to  see  'em. — 
Your  two  contending  lovers  are  return'd, 
And  with  them  their  fair  knights  :  now,  my  fair  sister. 
You  must  love  one  of  them. 

E;m'.  I  had  rather  both, 

So  neither  for  my  sake  should  fall  untimely. 

Tkes.  Who  saw  'em  ? 

Pzr.  I  a  while. 

Ge7tt.  And  I. 

Enter  Messenger. 

Thes.  From  whence  come  you,  sir  }  -- — - 

Mess.  From  the  knights. 

Thes.  Pray,  speak. 

You  that  have  seen  them,  what  they  are. 

Mess.  I    will,  sir,    • 

And  truly  what  I  think.     Six  braver  spirits 
Than  those   they've    brought — if  we   judge    by  th' out- 
side — 
I  never  saw  nor  read  of.     He  that  stands 
In  the  first  place  with  Arcite,  by  his  seeming 
Should  be  a  stout  man,  by  his  face  a  prince, — 
His  very  looks  so  say  him  ;  his  complexion 
Nearer  a  brown  than  black  ;  stern,  and  yet  noble, 
Which  shows  him  hardy,  fearless,  proud  of  dangers  ; 
The  circles  of  his  eyes  show  fire  within  him. 
And  as  a  heated  lion  so  he  looks  ; 
His  hair  hangs  long  behind  him,  black  and  shining 
Like  ravens'  wings  ;  his  shoulders  broad  and  strong ; 
Arm'd  long  and  round  ;  and  on  his  thigh  a  sword 
Hung  by  a  curious  baldrick,  when  he  frowns 
To  seal  his  will  with  ;  better,  o'  my  conscience, 
Was  never  soldier's  friend. 

VII.  408  [T.N. K.  66 


Ac//r.]  T//E  Tiro  XiUiLE  KfXSMEX.  [S,0m^ //, 

T/it's.  Thou'st  well  (lcscjil)cl  him. 

^'^ .  ^'t•l  a  j;rcat  deal  short, 

Methiiiks,  of  him  that's  first  with  I'alanion. 

JVii^s.  Pray,  speak  him,  friend. 

^^^-  I  puess  he  is  a  prince  loo, 

And.  if  it  may  be,  greater;  for  his  show- 
Has  all  the  ornament  of  honor  in'l : 
He's  somewhat  bigger  than  the  kni^'ht  he  .spuKi-  m. 
But  of  a  face  far  sweeter  ;  his  complexion 
Is.  as  a  rii)e  grape,  ruddy  ;  he  has  felt. 
Without  doubt,  what  he  fights  for,  and  so  aplcr 
To  make  this  cause  his  own  ;  in's  face  appears 
All  the  fair  hopes  of  what  he  undertakes; 
And  when  he's  angry,  then  a  settled  valor. 
Not  tainted  with  extremes,  runs  through  his  body, 
And  guides  his  arm  to  brave  things  ;  fear  he  cannot. 
He  shows  no  such  soft  tem|)er  ;  his  head's  yellow, 
Hard-hair'd,  and  curl'd.  thick-lwin'd,  like  ivy-lops, 
Not  to  undo  with  thunder;  in  his  face 
The  livery  of  the  warlike  maid  ajijHMrs. 
Pure  red  and  white,  for  yet  no  beard  has  blest  hin» ; 
And  in  his  rolling  eyes  sits  Victor)-, 
As  if  she  ever  meant  to  crown  his  valor; 
His  nose  stands  high,  a  character  of  honor, 
His  red  lips,  after  tights,  are  fit  for  ladies. 

E;/i/.  Must  these  men  die  loo? 

P/'r.  When  he  speaks,  his  toni^'uc 

Sounds  like  a  trumpet  ;  all  his  line.imenls 
Are  as  a  man  would  wisirem,  strong  and  cleao ; 
He  wears  a  well-steel'd  ax.  the  staff  of  goH  , 
His  age  some  five-antl-tweniy. 

J/e'ss.  There's  another 

A  little  man.  but  of  a  tough  soul,  seeming 
As  great  as  any  ;  fairer  jiromises 
In  such  a  body  yet  I  never  l<)(>k'<l  en. 

P/r.  O,  he  that's  freckle-facil  ? 

jlffss.  1 1^<^  same,  my  lord  ? 


es 


Are  they  not  sweet  on 

p/r.  Ves.  tlK-\'re  well. 

J/t'SS.  '  ^^ "=>» 

Being  so  few  and  well-dispos'd.  llicy  show 
Great  and  fine  art  in  nature.     He's  white-li.iirU 

f.N.K.67.]  VII.  4'>)- 


Aci  rr.]  THE   TWO  NOBLE  KIXSME^i.  [Scene  Ih 

Not  wanton-white,  but  such  a  manly  color 

Next  to  an  auburn  ;  toug-h  and  nimble-set, 

Which  shows  an  active  soul  ;  his  arms  are  brawny* 

Lin'd  with  strong  sinews  ;  to  the  shoulder-piece 

Gently  they  swell,  like  women  new-conceivd, 

Which  speaks  him  prone  to  labor,  never  fainting 

Under  the  weight  of  arms  ;  stout-hearted,  still, 

But,  when  he  stirs,  a  tiger ;  he's  gray-ey'd, 

Which  yields  compassion  where  he  conquers  ;  sharp 

To  spy  advantages,  and  where  he  finds  'em, 

He's  swift  to  make  'em  his  ;  he  does  no  wrongs, 

Nor  takes  none  ;  he's  round-fac'd,  and  when  he  smiles 

He  shows  a  lover,  when  he  frowns  a  soldier ; 

About  his  head  he  wears  the  winner's  oak, 

And  in  it  stuck  the  favor  of  his  lady  ; 

His  age  some  six-and-thirty  ;  in  his  hand 

He  bears  a  charging-staff,  emboss'd  with  silver. 

T/ies.  Are  they  all  thus  ? 

Pi)-.  They're  all  the  sons  of  honor, 

Tkes.  Now,  as  I  have  a  soul,  I  long  to  see  'em. — 
Lady  ;  you  shall  see  men  fight  now. 

Hip.  I  wish  it, 

But  not  the  cause,  my  lord  :  they  would  show 
Bravely  about  the  titles  of  two  kingdoms  : 
'Tis  pity  Love  should  be  so  tyrannous. — 
O  my  soft-hearted  sister,  what  think  you  ? 
Weep  not,  till  they  weep  blood,  wench  :  it  must  be, 

T/ies.  Youve  steel'd  'em  with  your  beauty. —  Honor'd 
friend. 
To  you  I  give  the  tield  ;  pray,  order  it 
Fitting  the  persons  that  must  use  it. 

Pir.  Yes,  sir. 

Tkes.   Come,  I'll  go  visit  'em  :  I  cannot  stay — 
Their  fame  has  fir'd  me  so  —  till  they  appear. 
Good  friend,  be  royal. 

Pi?-.  There  shall  want  no  bravery. 

Eiui.  Poor  Vv'ench,  go  weep  ;  for  whosoever  wins 
Loses  a  noble  cousin  for  thy  sins.  [Exeunt^ 


'II.  410.  tT-NK-  68, 


dctii'.]  THE  rn  i^  soni.i:  K 

Scene  III.  Athens.  A  room  in  tJu pn.un. 
Enter  Gaoler,  Wooer,  and  Doctor. 

Doctor.  Her  distraction  is  more  at  some  time  of  ihc 
moon  than  at  otlicr  some,  is  it  not  ? 

Gaoler.  She  is  continually   in  a   harmles  r; 

sleeps  little;  altojjether  without  appetite.  &,i\.  -Ic- 

ing^ ;  dreamin}^  of  another  world  and  a  better  ;  m\<\  \\\vaX 
broken  piece  of  matter  soe'er  she's  about,  the  name  Pala- 
nion  lards  it ;  that  she  farces  every  business  withal,  fit*  it 
to  every  question.— Look,  where' she  comes;  you  shall 
perceive  her  behavior. 

Enter  (laoler's  Daujjhtcr. 

Daugh.  I  have  forgot  it  (juite;  the  burden  on't  was 
Down-a,  (hrwn-a  ;  an(l  i)enned  by  no  worse  n)an  than 
Geraldo,  Emilia's  schoolmaster  :  he's  as  fantastical,  too.  as 
ever  he  may  go  upon's  le^^s;  for  in  the  next  world  will 
Dido  see  Palamon,  and  then  will  she  be  out  of  love  with 
/Eneas. 

Doctor.  What  stuff's  here  !  poor  soul ! 

Gaoler.  Even  thus  all  day  long. 

Dattg/t.  Now  for  this  charm  that  I  told  you  of.  You 
must  bring  a  piece  of  sliver  on  the  tip  of  your  tongue,  or 
no  ferry  :  then,  if  it  be  your  chance  to  come  where  ihc 
blessed  spirits  are — there's  a  sight  now! — wr  maids 
that  have  our  livers  perished,  cracked  tu  .  r, 

we  shall  come  there,  and  do  nothing  all  (;  k 

flowers  witii  l*roser|)ine ;  then  will  1  ni.iNC  r.ij.iiiiMn  a 
nosegay  ;  then  let  him  —  mark  me  —  then-- 

Doctor.  I  low  prettily  she's  amiss  I  note  her  a  little 
further. 

Daughter.    Faith,   111   tell  ndu;    somctim«>.   ur-   ■..  ».. 
barley-break,  we  of  the  blessed.     Alas,  'tis  a 
have  i'  th'  other  place,  such  burning.  fr)ing,  i 
ing.    howling,  chattering,  cursing  !     O.  the>  have 
measure  !     Take  heed  :  if  one  be  mad,  or  hani;.  «  ■ 
themselves,  thither  they  go;  Jupiter  bless  u^  ' 
shall  we  be  put  in  a  caldron  of  le.id  an»l  usu: 
amongst  a  whole   million  of  cut-purses,  ami  ilu  jc   boil 
like  a  gammon  of  bacon  that  will  never  be  enough. 

Doctor.   How  her  brain  coins  I 
r.N.K.  6g.]  V 11.  411. 


Act  I  V.I  THE  TIVO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  {Sccie  IH, 

Dangh.  Lords  and  courtiers  that  have  got  maids  with 
child,  they  are  in  this  place  ;  they  shall  stand  in  tire  up  to 
the  navel,  and  in  ice  up  to  the  heart,  and  there  th'  of- 
fending part  burns,  and  the  deceiving  part  freezes  ;  in  troth, 
a  very  grievous  punishment,  as  one  would  think,  for  such 
a  trifle  :  believe  me,  one  would  marry  a  leprous  witch  to 
be  rid  on't,  I'll  assure  you. 

Doctor.  How  she  continues  this  fancy !  'Tis  not  an 
engraffed  madness,  but  a  most  thick  and  profound  melan- 
choly. 

Daiigh.  To  hear  there  a  proud  lady  and  a  proud  city- 
wife  howl  together  !  I  were  a  beast,  an  I'd  call  it  good 
sport:  one  cries,  "  O,  this  smoke!"  th'  other,  "This 
fire  !  "  one  cries,  "  O,  that  ever  I  did  it  behind  the  arras  !  " 
and  then  howls  ;  th'  other  curses  a  suing  fellow  and  her 
garden-house.  \Si7igs^ 

I  will  be  true,  my  stars,  my  fate,  &c.  \Exit^ 

Gaoler.  What  think  you  of  her,  sir  ? 

Doctor.  I  think  she  has  a  perturbed  mind  which  I  can- 
not minister  to. 

Gaoler.  Alas,  what  then  ? 

Doctor.  Understand  you  she  ever  affected  any  man  ere 
she  beheld  Palamon  ? 

Gaoler.  I  was  once,  sir,  in  great  hope  she  had  fixed  her 
liking  on  this  gentleman,  my  friend. 

Wooer.  I  did  think  so  too  ;  and  would  account  I  had  a 
great  pen'worth  on't,  to  give  half  my  state,  that  both  she 
and  I  at  this  present  stood  unfeignedly  on  the  same 
terms. 

Doctor.  That  intemperate  surfeit  of  her  eye  hath  dis- 
tempered the  other  senses :  they  may  return  and  settle 
again  to  execute  their  preordained  faculties  ;  but  they  are 
now  in  a  most  extravagant  vagary.  This  you  must  do  : 
confine  her  to  a  place  where  the  light  nfay  rather  seem  to 
steal  in  than  be  permitted.  Take  upon  you,  young  sir, 
her  friend,  the  name  of  Palamon ;  say  you  come  to  eat 
with  her,  and  to  commune  of  love ;  this  will  catch  her  at- 
tention, for  this  her  mind  beats  upon  ;  other  objects,  that 
are  inserted  'tween  her  mind  and  eye,  become  the  pranks 
and  friskings  of  her  madness  :  sing  to  her  such  green 
songs  of  love  as  she  says  Palamon  hath  sung  in  prison  j 
VII.  41a.  £t.n.k.  70^ 


Ad  y.j  TlfK  Tiro  .\OBHi  KtS!i.\tE.\.  ,m,  t. 

come  tu  lu-r,  stuck  in  as  sweet  flowers  as  the  season  U 

inislress  of,  and  ihcreto  make  an  addilion  of  s« 
compounded  odors,  which  arc  grateful  to  the  i 

this  shall  become  I'alamon,   for   i'al.i; 

Palamoii  is  sweel,  and   every  good   \ 

with  her,  carve  her,  drink  lo  her,  am.    ... 

mingle  your  petition   of  grace  antl  an  t ; 

favor  :  learn  what  maids  have  been  her  tt 

play-feres;  and  let  them  repair  to  her  nviiIj   1 

their  mouths,  and  api)ear  with  tokens,  as  if  ihf. 

ed  for  him.     It  is  a  falsehood   slu-  is  in,  whitii   »;»  v\.ii» 

falsehoods  to  be  combated.     This  may  biing  h»T  to  r«i 

to  sleep,  and  reduce  what's  now  out  of  square  r 

their  former  law  and  regiment :  1  have  seen   it 

how  many  times  1  know  not;  but  to  make  the   »i 

more  I  have  great  hojie  in  this.     1  will,  between  ihr  ] 

ages  of  this  project,  come  in  with  my  applinnrc.     I.-  . 

put  it  in  execution  ;  and  hasten  the  success,  which,  « 

not,  will  brin;::  forth  comfort.  I  "^  ' 


ACT  V. 


'■  .!; 


.-,  1 


Scene  I.  Athens.  A  court  before  tl;  ■ 
Venus,  and  Diar. 

A  fiourish.   i:«AvTHKSEUS,  PlRin 
ami  Attendants. 

Thes.  Now  let  'em  enter,  and  before  the  gods 
Tender  their  holv  pravers  :  let  the  temiiles 
Burn  bright  with  sacred  fires,  and  the  altars 
In  hallow'd  clouds  commend  their  s\s tiling  mccnit 
To  those  above  us;  let  no  due  be  wanting: 
They  have  a  noble  work  in  hand,  will  honor 
The' very  powers  that  love  'em. 

/Y/ .  Sir,  they  enter. 

A  flourish  of  cornets.     Enter  Pai.aMON.  AkClTl, 
their  Knights. 
Thes   You  valiant  and  sirong-hrarted  cnemiei. 
You  royal  germane  foes,  that  tliis  day  con»c 
To  blow  that  nearness  out  that  flainrs  betvvcen  ye. 
Lay  by  your  anger  fo.  .-,t'.  lu.ur.  and  dove-hke 


Ac^  K]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  \Scene  L 

"Before  the  holy  altars  of  your  helpers. 

The  all-fear'd  gods,  bow  down  your  stubborn  bodies ; 

Your  ire  is  more  than  mortal ;  so  your  help  be ! 

And,  as  the  gods  regard  ye,  fight  with  justice : 

I'll  leave  you  to  your  prayers,  and  betwixt  ye 

I  part  my  wishes. 

Pir.  Honor  crown  the  worthiest ! 

\Exeii7ii  all  except  Palanion,  Arci'fe,  and  their  knigkis^ 

Pal.  The  glass  is  running  now  that  cannot  finish 
Till  one  of  us  expire  :  think  you  but  thus, 
That,  were  there  aught  in  me  which  strove  to  show 
]\Iine  enemy  in  this  business,  were't  one  eye 
Against  another,  arm  oppress'd  by  arm, 
I  would  destroy  th'  offender  ;  coz,  I  would. 
Though  parcel  of  myself :  then  from  this  gather 
How  I  should  tender  you. 

Arc,  I  am  in  labor 

To  push  your  name,  your  ancient  love,  our  kindred, 
Out  of  my  memory  ;  and  i'  the  self-same  place 
To  seat  something  I  would  confound  :  so  hoist  we 
The  sails,  that  must  these  vessels  port  even  where 
The  heavenly  limiter  pleases. 

Pal,  You  speak  well. 

Before  I  turn,  let  me  embrace  thee,  cousin  : 
This  I  shall  never  do  again. 

Arc.  One  farewell ! 

Pal,  Why,  let  it  be  so  ;  farewell,  coz  ! 

Arc.  ^  Farewell,  sir  f 

[  They  embrace. —  Exeunt  Palajnon  and  his  Knights^ 
Knights,  kinsmen,  lovers,  yea,  my  sacrifices. 
True  worshipers  of  Mars,  whose  spirit  in  you 
Expels  the  seeds  of  fear,  and  th'  apprehension 
Which  still  is  father  of  it,  go  with  me 
Before  the  god  of  our  profession  :  there 
Require  of  him  the  hearts  of  lions,  and 
The  breath  of  tigers,  yea,  the  fierceness  too, 
Yea,  the  speed  also,— to  go  on,  I  mean, 
Else  wish  we  to  be  snails  :  you  know  my  prize 
Must  be  dragg'd  out  of  blood  ;  force  and  great  feat 
Must  put  my  garland  on,  where  she  sticks 
The  queen  of  flowers;  our  intercession,  then. 
Must  be  to  him  that  makes  the  camp  a  cestron 

VII.  414.  [t.n.k.  t% 


^<t  r.j  n/F  Tiro  ^obi.e  kissmes  {s.*.,  / 

Briinni'd  wiili  tlic  Idood  of  men  :  give  mc  your  aJd. 

And  bend  your  spiiiis  towards  him. 

\^TIu'y  advance  to  the  altar  o/  Mat  s,  and  Jail  om  tkrt> 
faces  ;  then  kneel. 

Thou  nii<,duy  one.  llial  with  ihv  pourr  h.Tsi  furn'd 

Green  Ncplune  into  purple;  \\\v 

Comets  prewarn  :  whose  havoc  i: 

Unearthed  skulls  proelainj;  wh«>^  ■>■  .^  (C/wn 

The  teeniin<j  Ceres'  foison  ;  who  ■ 

With  hand  armipotent  from  forth  .-., ^..s 

The  mason'd  turrets;  that  l)oth  mak'st  and  break'tt 

The  stony  j^irths  of  cities  ;  me  thy  |>uj)il, 

Young'st  follower  of  thy  drum,  instruct  this  day 

With  military  skill,  that  to  thy  laud 

I  may  advance  my  streamer,  and  hy  ihce 

Be  styl'd  the  lord  o"  the  day  ;  —  give  mr,  great  Man. 

Some  token  of  thy  pleasure. 

\Herc  they  fall  on  their  faces  a$  before,  and  Iktre  i% 
heard  clan<^ini^  of  armor,  ivith  a  shot  I  thunder^ 
as  the  hurst  of  a  battle,  'whereupon  they  all  ris4^ 
and hirii'  to  the  altar. 

O   great  corrector  of  enormous  limes. 

Shaker  of  o'er-rank  states.  th(m  graiul  «].  ■  m  . . 

Of  dusty  and  old  titles,  that  hralst  with  Mood 

The  earth  when  it  is  sick,  and  cur'st  (!  •   ^  •  •!.' 

O'  the  i)lurisy  of  people  ;  I  do  take 

Thy  signs  ausi)iciouslv.  and  in  thy  nan  c 

To  my  design  march  boldly. —  Let  us  go.  {Kxtumi. 

Re-enter  PaI.AMoN  and  his  Knights. 

Pal.  Our  stars  must  glister  with  new  fire,  or  be 
To-dav  extinct;  our  argument  is  love. 
Which'  if  the  goddess  of  it  grant,  she  givr« 
Victory  too  :  then  blend  Nc:  '   ;  iine. 

You.  whose  free  nobl<•^^•-^s  .  se 

Your  personal  hazard  :  to  thr  g.<.<  <  -^  w  >  •»» 
Commend  we  our  procerding,  and  implore 
Her  power  unto  our  party. 

[  Thev  advance  to  the  altar  of  Venus,  and  fall  9m 
faces  :  then  hneel. 
Hail,  sovereign  (pieen  of  secrets,  who  hast  poutf 
To  call  the  fiercest  tyrant  from  his  rage. 
T.N.  K-.  73.1  vn  4- 


-.467"  F.J  THE   TWO  AOBLE  KINSMEN.  [Scene  f. 

To  weep  unto  a  girl ;  that  hast  the  might 
Even  with  an  eye-glance  to  choke  Mars's  drum 
And  turn  th'  alarm  to  whispers  ;  that  canst  make 
A  cripple  flourish  with  his  crutch,  and  cure  him 
Before  Apollo  :  that  mayst  force  the  king 
To  be  his  subject's  vassal,  and  induce 
Stale  gravity  to  dance  ;  the  polled  bachelor  — 
AVhose  youth,  like  wanton  boys  through  bonfires, 
.'fave  skipt  thy  flame  —  at  seventy  thou  canst  catch, 
And  make  him,  to  the  scorn  of  his  hoarse  throat, 
Abuse  young  lays  of  love  :  what  godlike  power 
Hast  thou  not  power  upon  ?  to  Phoebus  thou 
Add'st  flames,  hotter  than  his  ;  the  heavenly  fires 
Did  scorch  his  mortal  son,  thine  him  :    the  huntress 
All  moist  and  cold,  some  say,  began  to  throw 
Her  bow  away,  and  sigh  :  take  to  thy  grace 
jNIe,  thy  vow'd  soldier,  who  do  bear  thy  yoke 
As  'twere  a  wreath  of  roses,  yet  is  heavier 
Than  lead  itself,  stings  more  than  nettles  :  I 
Have  never  been  foul-mouth'd  against  thy  law; 
JSJe'er  reveal'd  secret,  for  I  knew  none, —  would  not, 
TIad  I  kenn'd  all  that  were;  I  never  practic'd 
Upon  man's  wife,  nor  would  the  libels  read 
•Of  liberal  wits;  I  never  at  great  feasts 
Sought  to  betray  a  beauty,  but  have  blush'd 
At  simpering  sirs  that  did  ;  I  have  been  harsh 
To  large  confessors,  and  have  hotly  ask'd  them 
If  they  had  mothers  ?  I  had  one,  a  woman. 
And    women  'twere  they  wrong'd  :  I  knew  a  man 
Of  eighty  winters, —  this  I  told  them, —  who 
A  lass  of  fourteen  brided  ;  'twas  thy  power 
To  put  life  into  dust ;  the  aged  cramp 
Had  screw'd  his  square  foot  round. 
The  gout  had  knit  his  fingers  into  knots. 
Torturing  convulsions  from  his  gioby  eyes 
Had  almost  drawn  their  spheres,  that  what  was  life 
In  him  seem'd  torture;  this  anatomy 
Had  by  his  young  fair  fere  a  boy,  and  I 
Believ'd  it  was  his,  for  she  swore  it  was, 
And  who  would  not  believe  her  ?     Brief,  I  am 
To  those  that  prate,  and  have  done,  no  companion ; 
To  those  that  boast,  and  have  not,  a  defter  ; 

VII.  416.  [t.n.k.  74. 


Ac/ r.]  n/K  mo  xoiiLE  KissMtx  (•/•**. 

To  those  that  would,  and  cannot,  a  rrjoit  -  :  . 
^'t•a.  him  I  do  not  love,  that  Iclls  closr  oflitti 
Tile  foulest  way,  nor  names  conccalnK-nt>  in 
Thf  boldest  ^anJ^uage;  such  a  one  I  am. 
And  vow  that  lover  never  yet  made  sij-h 
Truer  than  I.     ().  then,  most  sofl-sweel  goddess. 
(live  nu-  the  victory  of  this  question,  whicli 
Is  true  love's  merit,  and  bless  mc  with  a  sij^n 
Of  'hy  great  j)le.isure. 

\llerc  music  is  iititrti.  atui tiiK'cs  are  seen  I'rur.'rr: 
tht-y  fall  iX'^iiin  upon  (heir  Jaees,  then  on 
their  knees. 
O    lou  tliat  fr(»m  eleven  to  ninety  rcij^n'sl 
In  mortal  bosoms,  whose  chase  is  this  world. 
And  ue  in  herds  thy  game.  I  give  thee  llianks 
Foi  this  fair  token  ;  which  being  laid  unlo 
Miiie  innocent-true  heart,  arms  in  assurance 
My  boily  to  this  business.— Let  us  rise. 
And  how  before  the  goddess:  time  romrs  or 
(  They  bine,  ar.i  : 

Still  music   of  records.     A/z/^r  Emili  \ 
hair  about  her  shoulders,  a/uf  ' 
"wreath  :  one  in  "white  holtli> 
hair  stuck  "with  Jlowers  .-  on, 
a   silver  hind,   in   whii  h  /v 
S7L >eet  odors,  tt '/'  /<  //  /''  •  ■ '      '' ' :' ' 
her  Maids  standing 
they  courtesy  and  k>: 

Emi.  O  sacred,  shadowy,  cold,  and  i 
Abandoner  of  revels,  mute.  conlrmplati\> . 

Sweet,  solitary,  white  as  ch.iste,  .ind  piiie 

As  wind-fann'd  snow,  who  to  t'  ^  i.  m  i!.         -his 

Allow'st  no  more  blood  than  '». 

Which  is  their  order's  robe;  I 

Am  hund)led  'fore  thine  altar:  O.  v 

With  that  thy  rare  green  e\c-  >n  ' 

Beheld  thing  marulatt        h»"k  on  i 

And.  sacred  silver  mistress.  U  nd  t 

Which  neer  heard  scurrd  term,  intu  \\:    -   port 

Ne'er  enter'd  wanton  sound       to  n)y  nrttUi»n. 

Season'd  with  holy  fear.      This  is  my  Usl 

T.N.W.7S.1  VII.  4... 


4ci  y,]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  kinsmen:  [Scene  If, 

■-Of  vestal  office;  I'm  bride-habited, 

But  maiden-hearted  :  a  husband  I  have  'pointed, 

But  do  not  know  him  ;  out  of  two  1  should 

Choose  one,  and  pray  for  his  success  ;  but  I 

Am  guiltless  of  election  :  of  mine  eyes 

Were  I  to  lose  one, —  they  are  equal  precious, — 

I  could  doom  neither;  that  which  perish'd  should 

Go  to't  unsentenc'd  :  therefore,  most  modest  queen. 

He,  of  the  two  pretenders,  that  best  loves  me 

And  has  the  truest  title  in"t,  let  him 

Take  off  my  wheaten  garland,  or  else  grant 

The  tile  and  quality  I  hold  I  may 

Continue  in  thy  band. 

[Here  the  /u'nd  vanishes  under  the  altar^  and  in  the 

place  asce?tds  a  rose-tree,  having  one  rose  upon  it, 
:See  what  our  general  of  ebbs  and  flows 
Out  from  the  bowels  of  her  holy  altar 
With  sacred  act  advances ;  but  one  rose  ! 
If  well  inspir'd,  this  battle  shall  confound 
Both  these  brave  knights,  and  I,  a  virgin  flower, 
Must  grow  alone,  unpluck'd. 
[Here  is  heard  a  sudden  twang  of  instruments,  and  the 

rose  falls  from  the  tree,  luhich  vanishes  under  the 

altar. 
The  flower  is  fall'n,  the  tree  descends. —  O  mistress, 
Thou  here  dischargest  me  ;  I  shall  be  gather'd, 
1  think  so  ;  but  I  know  not  thine  own  will  : 
Unclasp  thy  mystery. —  I  hope  she's  pleas'd  ; 
Her  signs  were  gracious.  [  They  courtesy,  and  then  exeunt. 

Scene  H.     Athens.     A  room  in  the  prison. 

E7iter  Doctor,  Gaoler,  a7id  Wooer  in  the  habit  of  Pala- 
MON. 

Doctor.  Has  this  advice  I  told  you  done  any  good  up- 
on her  } 

Wooer.   O,  very  much  ,  the  maids  that  kept  her  company 
Have  half  persuaded  her  that  I  am  Palamon  ; 
Within  this  half-hour  she  came  smiling  to  me, 
And  ask'd  me  what  I'd  eat,  and  when  I'd  kiss  her  : 
1  told  her  presently,  and  kiss'd  her  twice. 

VTI.   418.  J^T.N.K.  76. 


^ct  r.]  ruE  Tiro  noble  a/a  v  •■//  v. 

Doc/or.   'Twas  wtll  done:  Iwi:.;.    ; . ;..i 

For  there  the  curt-  lies  mainly.  (belter » 

ll'ooff ,  Then  she  lold  mc 

She'd  watch  with  me  to-ni^dit.  for  well  she  knew 
What  hour  my  fit  would  lake  mc. 

Doctor.  Lot  her  tin  s.> ; 

And,  wlieii  your  fit  comes,  fit  h»r  home  and  prcscnlly. 

Wooer.   She  wouhl  have  me  .sin};. 

Doctor.  "\'ou  did  so  } 

Wooer,  No. 

Doctor.  Twas  ver}'  ill  <lone,  then  » 

You  should  ol)s(i\i  IK  r  every  wav. 

Wooer.  Alas, 

I  have  no  voice,  sir.  to  confirm  her  thai  way! 

Doctor.  That's  all  one,  if  ye  make  a  noise : 
If  she  entreat  aj^ain.  do  any  thing  ; 
Lie  with  her.  if  she  ask  you. 

Gaoler.  Ho.  there,  doctor! 

Doctor.  Yes,  in  the  way  of  cure. 

Gaoler.  But  first,  by  your  Iea\*e. 

r  the  way  of  honesty. 

Doctor.  That's  hut  ;.  niceness; 

Ne'er  cast  your  child  away  for  honesty  : 
Cure  her  first  this  way  ;  then,  if  she'll  be  honest, 
She  has  the  i)ath  before  her. 

Gaoler.  Thank  ye.  docl«  r. 

Doctor.  Pray,  brinp;'  her  in, 
And  let's  see  how  she  is. 

Gaoler.  I  w  .w.  .>,,  .  . 

Her  Palamon  stays  for  her  :  hut.  doctor, 
Methinks  you  are  i'  the  wrong  sldl. 

Doctor.  (to.  j;o  ; 

You  fathers  arc  fine  fools  :  her  honestv* 
And  we  should  jjive  her  physic  till  we  ' 

ITooer.  Why,  do  you  think  she  is  n 

Doctor,  How  old  is  she  ? 

H'ooer.  She's  eight. 

Doctor.  She  may  be; 

But  that's  all  one.  'tis  nothing  to  our  purpose : 
Whate'er  her  father  says,  if  you  i)erceivr 
Her  mood  inclining  that  way  that  I  spoke  of. 
Videlicet,  the  way  of  flesh  ' -  ^ 

r.N.K.77.]  ^  ■' 


Act  V.^  THE  TWO  XOBLE  KINSMEN,  {Scene  Ih 

Wooer.  Yes,  ver}^  well,  sir. 
Doctor.  Please  her  appetite. 

And  do  it  home  ;  it  cures  her,  ipso  facto. 
The  melancholy  humor  that  infects  her. 
Wooer.  I  am  of  your  mind,  doctor. 
Doctor.  You'll  find  it  so.     She  comes  :  pray,  humor  her, 

Re-enter  Gaoler,  with  his  Daughter  and  Maid. 

Gaoler.  Come  ;  your  love  Palamon  stays  for  you,  child, 
And  has  done  this  long  hour,  to  visit  you. 

Dauo;h.  I  thank  him  for  his  gentle  patience; 
He's  a  kind  gentleman,  and  I'm  much  bound  to  him. 
Did  you  ne'er  see  the  horse  he  gave  me  } 

Gaoler.  Yes. 

Daiigh.  How  do  you  like  him  } 

Gaoler.  He's  a  ver)'  fair  one. 

Daiigh,  You  never  saw  him  dance  } 

Gaoler.  No. 

Da  ugh.  I  have  often : 

He  dances  very  finely,  very  comely  ; 
And,  for  a  jig,  come  cut  and  long  tail  to  him  ; 
He  turns  ye  like  a  top. 

Gaoler.  That's  fine  indeed. 

Daiigh.  He'll  dance  the  morris  twenty  mile  an  hour. 
And  rliat  will  founder  the  best  hobby-horse. 
If  I  have  any  skill,  in  all  the  parish ; 
And  gallops  to  the  tune  of  Light  o'  Love: 
AVhat  think  you  of  this  horse  ? 

Gaoler,  Having  these  virtues, 

I  think  he  might  be  brought  to  play  at  tennis. 

Daiigh.  Alas,  that's  nothing. 

Gaoler.  Can  he  write  and  read  too  } 

Daugh.  A  very  fair  hand;  and  cast  himself  th' accounts 
Of  all  his  hay  and  provender ;  that  hostler 
Must  rise  betime  that  cozens  him.     You  know 
The  chestnut  mare  the  duke  has.'' 

Gaoler.  Very  well. 

Daugh.    She's  horribly  in  love  with  him,  poor  beast ; 
But  he  is  like  his  master,  coy  and  scornful. 

Gaoler,  What  dowry  has  she  } 

Daugh.  Some  two  hundred  bottles, 

And  twenty  strike  of  oats  ;  but  he'll  ne'er  have  her : 

VII.  *?a  fx.N  K.  73, 


Aci  r.]  THE   rn'O  NOBLE  KIISSMEN.  [Scene  11, 

He  lisps  ill's  neighing,  able  to  entice 

A  miller's  mare  ;  he'll  be  the  death  of  her. 

Doctor.  What  stuff  she  utters! 

Gaoler.  Make  court'sy;  here  your  love  comes. 
Wooer.  Pretty  soul, 

How  do  ye  ?     That's  a  fine  maid  ;  there's  a  court'sy  ! 

Daugh.  Yours  to  command,  i'  the  way  of  honesty. 
How  far  is't  now  to  th'  end  o'  the  world,  my  masters  ? 

Doctor.  Why,  a  day's  journey,  wench. 

Daugh.  Will  you  go  with  me  ? 

Wooer.  What  shall  we  do  there,  wench  } 

Daiigli.  Why,  play  at  stool-ball : 

What  is  there  else  to  do  ? 

Wooer.  I  am  content, 

If  we  shall  keep  our  wedding  there. 

Daugh.  'Tis  true : 

For  there,  I  will  assure  you,  we  shall  find 
Some  blind  priest  for  the  purpose,  that  will  venture 
To  marry  us,  for  here  they're  nice  and  foolish  ; 
Besides,  my  father  must  be  hang'd  to-morrow. 
And  that  would  be  a  blot  i'  the  business. 
Are  not  you  Palamon  ? 

U^ooer.  Do  not  you  know  me? 

Daugh.  Yes;  but  you  care  not  for  me:  I  have  nothing 
But  this  poor  petticoat  and  two  coarse  smocks. 

Wooer.  That's  all  one  ;  I  will  have  you. 

Daugh.  Will  you  surely  ? 

Wooer.  Yes,  by  this  fair  hand,  will  I. 

Daugh,  We'll  to  bed,  then. 

Wooer.  Even  when  you  will.  [Kisses  her, 

Daugh.  O,  sir,  you'd  fain  be  nibbling. 

Wooer.  Why  do  you  rub  my  kiss  off .'' 

Daugh.  'Tis  a  sweet  one. 

And  will  perfume  me  finely  'gainst  the  wedding. 
Is  not  this  your  cousin  Arcite  } 

Doctor.  Yes,  sweetheart  ; 

And  I  am  glad  my  cousin  Palamon 
Has  made  so  fair  a  choice. 

Daugh.  Do  you  think  he'll  have  me  ? 

Doctor.  Yes»  without  doubt. 

Daugh.  Do  you  think  so  too  ? 

Gaoler.  Ye& 

r.N.K.  7Q.)  ^31.    421. 


<4<r/r.3  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEt7,  {Sc^^ia  If^ 

Daugli.  We  shall  have  many  children, —  Lord,  how  ye're 
grown  ! 
My  Palamon  I  hope  will  grow,  too,  finely, 
Now  he's  at  liberty:  alas,  poor  chicken, 
He  was  kept  down  with  hard  meat  and  ill  lodging ; 
But  I'll  kiss  him  up  again. 

Efiter  Messenger. 

Mess.  What  do  you  here?  you'll  lose  the  noblest  sigh* 
That  e'er  was  seen. 

Gaoler.  Are  they  i'  the  field  1 

Mess.  They  are : 

You  bear  a  charge  there  too. 

Gaoler.  I'll  away  straight. — 

I  must  even  leave  you  here. 

Doctor,  Nay,  we'll  go  with  you ; 
I  will  not  lose  the  sight. 

Gaoler.  How  did  you  like  her  ? 

Doctor.  V^  warrant  you,  within  these  tliree  or  four  days 
I'll  make  her  right  again. —  You  must  not  from  her, 
But  still  preserve  her  in  this  way. 

Wooer.  I  will. 

Doctor.  Let's  get  her  in. 

Wooer.  Come,  sweet,  we'll  %o  to  dinner  ; 

A.nd  then  we'll  play  at  cards. 
DaiigJi.  And  shall  we  kiss  too.'* 

Wooer.  A  hundred  times. 
Daugh.  And  twenty  ? 

Wooer.  Ay,  and  twenty. 

Daiigh.  Then  we'll  sleep  together.? 
Doctor.  Take  her  offer. 

Wooer.  Yes-,  marry,  will  we. 

Daugh.  But  you  shall  not  hurt  me. 

Wooer.  I  will  not,  sweet. 
Daugh,  If  you  do,  love,  I'll  cry. 

\KxetmU 


Vn.   43*.  |;i.N.K.  SOb 


Act  I'.]  T//E  TIIO  AO/!Li:  A/XSM/A'  ,     .         ... 

SCEx\E  III.   A  part  of  the'  forest  near  At /tens,  n-  '  ••    -r 
the  place  appointed  for  the  eomlmt. 

Flourish.  AV/Z^v- 'rnKSKUs.  Hiim'olyta.  Emii.ia,  i':ki. 
THOUS,  and  AUciulaiUs. 

Eini.   I'll  no  step  furtlu-r. 

Pir.  Will  you  lose  tMs  sigltl  ? 

Eini.  I  had  rather  see  a  wren  hawk  at  a  fly, 
Than  this  decision  :  ever)'  IjIow  that  falls 
Threats  a  brave  life  ;  each  stroke  laments 
The  place  whereon  it  falls,  and  st)unds  more  like 
A  hell  than  blade  :  I  will  stay  here  : 
It  is  enouo^h,  my  hearinp^  shall  be  |)unish'd 
With  what  shall  h;ippen. — 'gainst  the  which  there  is 
No  deating-, —  but  to  hear,  not  taint  mine  eye 
With  dread  sights  it  may  shun. 

/Vr.  Sir,  my  good  lord, 

Your  sister  will  no  further. 

Thes.  O,  she  must  : 

She  shall  see  deeds  of  honor  in  their  kind. 
Which  sometime  show  well.  |)encird  :  nature  now 
Shall  make  and  act  the  story,  the  belief 
Both  seal'd  with  eye  and  ear.     You  must  be  j)restnl ; 
You  are  the  victor's  meed,  the  price  and  garland 
To  crown  the  questant's  title. 

Fjiti.  Tardon  me  ; 

If  I  were  there,  I'd  wink. 

Thcs.  You  must  he  there; 

This  trial  is  as  'twere  i'  the  night,  and  you 
The  only  star  to  shine. 

Emi.  I  am  extinct : 

There  is  but  envy  in  that  light,  which  show's 
The  one  the  other.     Darkness,  which  ever  was 
The  dam  of  Horror,  who  does  stand  accurs'd 
Of  manv  mortal  millions,  may  even  now. 
By  casting  her  black  mantle  over  both. 
That  neither  could  find  other,  get  herself 
Some  part  of  .i  good  name,  and  many  a  murder 
Set  off  whereto  she's  guilty. 

Hip.  Vou  must  go. 

Emi.   In  faith,  I  will  not. 

Tht's.  Why,  the  knigh;.%i;m'i  Miullc 

T.N.K.  81.1  VII.  4>3. 


Aci  y.]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN,  ^Scene  III 

Their  valor  at  your  eye  :  know,  of  this  war 
You  are  the  treasure,  and  must  needs  be  by 
To  give  the  service  pay. 

Enii.  Sir,  pardon  me ; 

The  title  of  a  kingdom  may  be  tried 
Out  of  itself. 

Thes,         Well,  well,  then,  at  your  pleasure  : 
Those  that  remain  with  you  could  wish  their  office 
To  any  of  their  enemies. 

Hip.  Farewell,  sister : 

I'm  like  to  know  your  husband  'fore  yourself, 
By  some  small  start  of  time  :  he  whom  the  gods 
Do  of  the  two  know  best,  1  pray  them  he 
Be  made  your  lot. 
\_Exeunt  all  except  Emilia  and  some  of  the  Attendants^ 

Emi.  Arcite  is  gently  visag'd  ;  yet  his  eye 
Is  like  an  engine  bent,  or  a  sharp  weapon 
In  a  soft  sheath  ;  mercy  and  manly  courage 
Are  bedfellows  in  his  visage.     Palamon 
Has  a  most  menacing  aspect  ;  his  brow 
Is  grav'd,  and  seems  to  bury  what  it  frowns  on  \ 
Yet  sometimes  'tis  not  so,  but  alters  to 
The  quality  of  his  thoughts  ;  long  time  his  eye 
Will  dwell  upon  his  object ;  melancholy 
Becomes  him  nobly  ;  so  does  Arcite's  mirth ; 
But  Palamon's  sadness  is  a  kind  of  mirth, 
So  mingled  as  if  mirth  did  make  him  sad, 
And  sadness  merry  ;  those  darker  humors  that 
Stick  misbecomingiy  on  others,  on  him 
Live  in  fair  dwelling. 

{Cornets  ;  and  trumpets  sound  as  to  a  c/iargf, 
within. 
Hark,  how  yon  spurs  to  spirit  do  incite 
The  princes  to  their  proof !  Arcite  may  win  me  ; 
And  yet  may  Palamon  wound  Arcite  to 
The  spoiling  of  his   figure.     O,  what  pity 
Enough  for  such  a  chance  !  If  I  were  by, 
I  might  do  hurt ;  for  they  would  glance  their  eyes 
Toward  my  seat,  and  in  that  motion  might 
Omit  a  ward,  or  forfeit  an  offense, 
*Vhich  crav'd  that  very  tmie  :  it  is  much  better 

VI 1    iOi  (t.n.k.  8* 


<c/r.]  Tin:  r^yo  SOBl.E  KISSMRN.  iS.rm4tli. 

i  am  not  there  ;  O.  biiitr  ncvi-r  born 

Than  niinisicr  to  buch  liarin. 

[Corue/s  ;  ami  a  great  cry  of  "  A  Palamon  ! "  wj/JktH, 

What  ib  the  chance  > 
hirst  S^rv.  The  cry's  "  A  I'alanion  !" 
/:////.  Then  he  has  won.     'Twas  ever  likely  : 

He  look'cl  all  ^riace  and  success,  and  he  is 

Doubtless  the  priin'st  of  men.     I  prithee,  lun 

And  tell  me  how  it  goes. 

[S/iout  ;  cortitts  ;  atui  cry  of  "  \  Palanioni"  within. 
/•  irst  Serv.  Still  "1  'a laniun  I  " 

Emi.  Run  and  incjuire.  {Exit  First  Servant. 

Poor  servant,  thou  l»asl  lost  : 

Upon  my  ri<rhi  side  si  ill  I  wore  thy  picture, 

Palamon  s  oi;  the  left :  why  so,  1  know  not  ; 

I  iiad  no  end  in't  else  ;  chance  would  have  it  so: 

On  the  sinister  side  the  heart  lies;  Talanii  i 

Had  the  best-boding  chance. 

[.l/tof/wr  cry,  and  shout,  aftif  (or  r,  .    ,,  u;:/:/rj. 

This  burst  of  clamor 
Is,  sure,  the  end  o'  the  combat. 

Re-enter  lirst  Ser\ant. 

First  Serv.  They  saiil  that  Palamon  hatl  Arcilc'&  body 
Within  an  inch  o'  the  pyranjid,  that  the  try 
Was  general  '*  A  Palamon  !  "'  but  anon 
Th'  assistants  made  a  brave  redemption,  and 
The  two  bold  tiltersat  this  instant  aic 
Hand  to  hand  at  it. 

/:"////.  W fn-  they  metamorphos*d 

Both  into  one  —  O.  why  ?  there  were  no  woman 
Worth  so  comj)os'd  a  man  :  their  single  sh;irc. 
Their  nobleness  peculiar  to  them,  gives 
The  i)rejiidic(;  of  disparit),  v.due's  shorlncss. 
To  any  lady  breathing. 

[Cornets  ;  and  cry  of  "  Arciie.  Arcile  f  **  wit  Aim, 
More  exulting  ? 
"Palamon  "  still? 

First  Ser7'.  Nay,  now  the  st>und  is  "Arcile," 

Enn.  I  prithee,  lay  attention  to  the  cr>'; 
Set  both  thine  ears  to  the  business. 

r.N.K-.8<  1  V.I.    43S. 


Ad  r.]  THE   TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  {Scene Ilh 

[Cornets;  and  a  great  shout,  and  cry  of  "  Arcite,  vic« 
tory !  "  within. 

First  Serv.  The  or)'  is 

*•  Arcite,  and  victory  ! "     Hark  :  "  Arcite,  victory  !  " 
Tiie  combat's  consummation  is  proclaim'd 
By  the  wind-instruments. 

Enii.  Half-sig-hts  saw 

That  Arcite  was  no  babe  :  God's  hd,  his  richness 
And  costKness  of  spirit  look'd  through  him  ;  it  could 
No  more  be  hid  in  him  than  fire  in  flax, 
Than  humble  banks  can  go  to  law  with  waters 
That  drift-winds  force  to  raging.     I  did  think 
Good  Palamon  would  miscarry  ;  yet  I  knew  not 
Why  I  did  think  so  :  our  reasons  are  not  prophets, 
When  oft  our  fancies  are.     They're  coming  off : 
Alas,  pot)r  Palamon  !  {Cornets  within. 

Re-enter    Theseus,     Hippolyta,     Pirithous,    luit/i 
Arcite  as  victor.  Attendants,  &^c. 

Thes.  Lo,  where  our  sister  is  in  expectation, 
Yet  quaking  and  unsettled. —  Fairest  Emily, 
The  gods,  by  their  divine  arbitrement, 
Have  given  you  this  knight :  he  is  a  good  one 
As  ever  struck  at  head.     Give  me  your  hands: 
Receive  you  her,  you  him  ;  be  plighted  with 
A  love  that  grows  as  you  decay. 

Arc.  Emily, 

To  buy  you  I  have  lost  what's  dearest  to  me, 
Save  what  is  bought ;  and  yet  I  purchase  cheaply. 
As  I  do  rate  your  value. 

Tkes.  O  lov'd  sister, 

He  speaks  now  of  as  brave  a  knight  as  e'er 
Did  spur  a  noble  steed  :  surely,  the  gods 
Would  have  him  die  a  bachelor,  lest  his  race 
Should  show  i'  the  world  too  godlike  :  his  behavior 
So  charm'd  me,  that  methought  Alcides  was 
To  him  a  sow  of  lead  :  if  I  could  praise 
Each  part  of  him  to  th'  all  I've  spoke,  your  Arcite 
Did  not  lose  by't ;  for  he  that  was  thus  good 
Encounter'd  yet  his  better.     I  have  heard 
Two  emulous  Philomels  beat  the  ear  o'  the  night* 
With  their  contentious  throats,  now  one  the  higher, 

VII.  426.  [t.n.k.  84. 


dci  y.\  THE  in  o  NObL e  kinsmen  li / */  / K 

Anon  the  other,  then  again  the  first. 
And  by  and  by  out-bri-aslcd.  that  the  scns€ 
Could  not  be  judj^e  between  'cm  :  so  it  far'd 
Good  space  iietween  these  kinsmen  ;  till  heavens  did 
Make  haully  one  the  winner. —  Wear  the  j;arland 
With  joy  that  you  have  won. —  For  the  suljdu'd. 
Give  them  our  |)resent  justice,  since  1  know 
Their  lives  but  pinch  'em  :  let  it  here  be  done. 
The  scene's  not  for  our  seeing  :  go  \vc  hence. 
Right  joyful,  with  some  sorrow.—  Arm  your  priae; 
I  know  you  will  not  lose  her. —  Hip|)olyla, 
I  see  one  eye  of  yours  conceives  a  tear. 
The  which  it  will  deliver. 

PIdu',  Is  this  winning? 

0  all  you  heavenly  powers,  where  is  your  mercy? 
But  that  your  wills  have  said  it  musi  l)e  so. 

And  charge  mc  live  to  comfort  this  unfriended. 

This  miserable  prince,  that  cuts  away 

A  life  more  worthy  from  him  than  all  women, 

1  should  and  would  die  too. 

Hip,  Infinite  pity. 

That  four  such  eyes  should  be  so  tix'd  on  one. 
That  two  must  needs  be  l)lind  for'l ! 

Thes.  So  it  is.  {Flourish.    Ex  runt 

Scene  IV.    TJic  same  part  of  the  forest  us  in  Ait  III. 
See/ie  I' I. 

Enter  PalaMON  and  his  Knights /////W//^/,  Gaoler,  EIx» 
ecutioner,  &c.,  anit  Guard. 

Pa/.  There's  many  a  man  alive  that  hath  oulliv'd 
The  love  o'  the  people  ;  yea,  i'  the  self-same  stale 
Stands  many  a  father  with  his  child  :  sonie  comfort 
We  have  by  so  considering  ;  we  expire. 
And  not  without  men's  pity  ;  to  live  still 
Have  their  good  wishes;  we  prevent 
The  loathsome  misery  of  age.  beguile 
The  gout  and  rheum,  that  in  lag  hours  allrnd 
For  gray  approachers;  we  con)e  towards  the  gfxi*. 
Young  and  unwapper'd.  not  halting  under  crimrs 
Many^'and  stale  ;  that.  sure,  shall  ple.ise  the  ^jnds 
Sooner  than  such,  to  give  us  nectar  with  'cn». 
r.N.K.85.]  Ml.  437. 


Aci  F.]  THE  TWO  NOBLE  KINSMEN.  {Seem  IV, 

For  we  are  more  clear  spirits.     My  dear  kinsmen. 
Whose  lives  for  this  poor  comfort  are  laid  down, 
You've  sold  'em  too-too  cheap. 

First  Knight.  What  ending  could  bc 

Of  more  content  ?     O'er  us  the  victors  have 
Fortune,  whose  title  is  as  momentary 
As  to  us  death  is  certain ;  a  grain  of  honor 
They  not  o'er-weigh  us. 

Sec .  Knight.  Let  us  bid  farewell ; 

And  with  our  patience  anger  tottering  Fortune, 
Who,  at  .her  certain'st,  reels. 

Third  Knight.  Come  ;  who  begins  "? 

Pal.  Even  he  that  led  you  to  this  banc|uet  shall 
Taste  to  you  all. —  Ah,  ha,  my  friend,  my  friend  ! 
Your  gentle  daughter  gave  me  freedom  once; 
You'll  see't  done  now  for  ever:  pray,  how  does  she? 
I  heard  she  was  not  well ;  her  kind  of  ill 
Gave  me  some  sorrow. 

Gaoler.  Sir,  she's  well  restor'd. 

And  to  be  married  shortly. 

Pal.  By  my  short  life, 

I  am  most  glad  on't;  'tis  the  latest  thing 
I  shall  be  glad  of ;  prithee,  tell  her  so  ; 
Commend  me  to  her,  and,  to  piece  her  portion. 
Tender  her  this.  \Gives ptirse. 

First  K7iight.  Nay,  let's  be  offerers  all. 

Sec.  Knight,  Is  it  a  maid  .'* 

Pal.  Verily,  I  think  so  ; 

A  right  good  creature,  more  to  me  deserving 
That  I  can  quit  or  speak  of. 

All  the  Kights.  Commend  us  to  her. 

[Giving  their  purses. 

Gaoler.  The  gods  requite  you  all,  and  make  her  thankful! 

Pal.  Adieu  ;  and  let  my  life  be  now  as  short 
As  my  leave-taking. 

First  Knight.      Lead,  courageous  cousin. 

All  the  Knights.  We'll  follow  cheerfully. 

\Palamon  lays  his  head  on  the  block.    A  great  noise, 
and  cry  of  "  Run,  save,  hold  !  "  within. 

Enter  Messenger  in  haste. 

Mess.  Hold,  hold  !  O,  hold,  hold,  hold  ! 

VII.  423.  [T.N.K.  S& 


Aci  r.i  7-///i  nyo  soble  sci 

Enter  PiRiTHoUS  in  haste, 

Pi'r.  Hold,  ho!  it  is  a  curs^tl  hasir  vou  made 
If  you  have  tloiic  so  quickly.—  Nohk-  I'.il.unon. 
The  gods  will  show  their  glor)'  in  a  life 
That  thou  art  yet  to  lead. 

Pii^.  Can  that  he.  when 

Venus  I've  said  is  false  .^     How  (hi  things  f.irc  ? 

/'/>-.  Arise,  great  sir,  and  give  ihc  tiduigbcar 

1  Palamom  riset^ 
That  are  most  dearly  sweet  and  hitter. 

PiiL  What 

Hath  wak'd  us  from  our  dream  ? 

Pir.  List,  ihcn.    Yourcousi: 

Mounted  upon  a  steed  that  Emily 
Did  tirst  bestow  on  him, —  a  black  onr,  owing 
Not  a  hair-worth  of  while,  which  some  will  say 
Weakens  his  price,  and  many  will  not  buy 
His  goodness  with  this  note;  which  si.i    in'-',  n 
Here  finds  allowance, —  on  this  hor- 
Trotting  the  stones  of  Athens,  whi*  : 
Did  rather  tell  than  trample  ;  for  the  Imrsc 
Would  make  his  length  a  mile,  if'l  pleas'd  his  ridcf 
To  put  pride  iii  him  :  as  he  thus  went  counting 
The  flinty  pavement,  dancing  as  'twere  to  the  music 
His  own  hoofs  made, —  for,  as  they  sav,  from  iron 
Came  music's  origin, —  what  envious  tlinl. 
Cold  as  old  Saturn,  and  like  him  posst^s'd 
With  fire  malevolent,  dartrtl  a  spark. 
Or  what  fierce  suli)hur  else,  to  •  '  -  adc, 

I  comment  not;  the  hot  horse. 

Took  toy  at  this,  and  fell  to  w  ■  r  ; 

His  i)()wer  could  give  his  will.  1  mcs  on  end. 

Forgets  school-doing,  being  till :  d. 

And  of  kind  manage  ;  pig-like  he  whmes  ' 

At  the  sharp  rowel,  which  he  frets  ;it  i.ithrr 
Than  any  jot  obeys  ;  seeks  all  foul  i 
Of  boisterous  and  rough  jadcn.-,  to  . 
His  lord  that  ke|)t  it  br.ively  :  whei>  ^^^'a    - 

When  neither  curb  would  crack,  gi:  or  iliflcnng  ^ 

jilunges 
Disroot  his  rider  whence  he  grew,  but  ihat 

T.N. K.  87.1  *■"  ♦»<»• 


Ac/  r.]  THE   TWO  XOBLE  KINSMEN.  \Scene  IV, 

He  kept  him  'tween  his  legs,  on  his  hind  hoofs 

On  end  he  stands. 

That  Arcite's  legs,  being  higher  than  his  head, 

Seem'd  with  strange  art  to  hang:  his  victor's  wreath 

Even  then  fell  off  his  head  ;  and  presently 

Backward  the  jade  comes  o'er,  and  his  full  poise 

Becomes  the  rider's  load.     Yet  is  he  living; 

But  such  a  vessel  'tis  that  floats  but  for 

The  surge  that  next  approaches:  he  much  desires 

To  have  some  speech  with  you,     Lo,  he  appears. 

E?iter   Theseus,  Hippolyta,  Emilia,  and  Arcite 
carried  in  a  chair. 

Pal.  O  miserable  end  of  our  alliance  ! 
The  gods  are  mighty. —  Arcite,  if  thy  heart, 
Thy  worthy,  manly  heart,  be  yet  unbroken, 
Give  me  thy  last  words ;  I  am  Palamon, 
One  that  yet  loves  thee  dying. 

Arc.  Take  Emilia, 

And  with  her  all  the  world's  joy.     Reach  thy  hand  : 
Farewell;  I've  told  my  last  hour.     I  was  false, 
Yet  never  treacherous  :  forgive  me,  cousin. — 
One  kiss  from  fair  Emilia.     \^Kisses  her.'\ —  'Tis  done  : 
Take  her.     I  die.  \^Dies» 

Pal.  Thy  brave  soul  seek  Elysium  ! 

Evil.  I'll  close  thine  eyes,  prince  ;  blessed  souls  be  with 
thee! 
Thou  art  a  right  good  man ;  and,  while  I  live. 
This  day  I  give  to  tears. 

Pal.  And  I  to  honor. 

Thes.  In  this  place  first  you  fought ;  even  very  here 
I  sunder'd  you  :  acknowledge  to  the  gods 
Your  thanks  that  you  are  living. 
His  part  is  play'd,  and,  though  it  were  too  short, 
He  did  it  well ;  your  day  is  lengthen'd,  and 
The  blissful  dew  of  heaven  does  arrose  you  : 
The  powerful  Venus  well  hath  grac'd  her  altar. 
And  given  you  your  love  ;  our  master  Mars 
Hath  vouch'd  his  oracle,  and  to  Arcite  gave 
The  grace  of  the  contention  :  so  the  deities 
Have  show'd  due  justice. —  Bear  this  hence. 

Pal.  O  cousin, 

VII.  43a  [t.n.k.  88, 


/^vr.l  Tirr.   TWO  SOBLE  KISSMES.  (J&/«//r 

That  we  chould  things  dt'sirc,  which  do  cost  us 
The  loss  of  our  desire  !  that  naught  could  buy 
Dear  lore  but  loss  of  dear  love  ! 

Thes,  Never  fortune 

Did  |)l,iy  a  subtler  game  :  the  coiujurr'd  triumphi. 
The  victor  has  the  loss;  yet  in  the  passage 
The  i^ods  have  been  most  equal.     I'alanton. 
Your  kinsman  hath  ronfess'd  the  right  o'  the  lady 
Did  lie  in  you  ;  for  you  first  saw  hrr,  and 
Even  then  proclaim "d  your  fancv  ;  he  restor'd  her. 
As  your  slol'n  jewel,  and  desir'd  your  spirit 
To  send  him  hence  forgiven  :  the  gods  my  justice 
Take  from  my  hand,  and  they  themselves  become 
The  executioners.     Lead  your  lady  off  ; 
And  call  your  lovers  from  the  stage  of  death. 
Whom  I  a(loj)t  my  friends.     A  day  or  two 
Let  us  look  sadly,  and  give  grace  unto 
Tlie  funeral  of  Arcite;  in  whose  end 
The  visages  of  bridegrooms  we'll  put  on. 
And  smile  with  P.damon  :  for  whom  an  hour, 
Ikit  one  hour  since,  I  was  as  dearly  sorry 
As  glad  of  Arcite,  and  am  now  as  glad 
As  for  him  sorry,—  O  you  heavenly  charmers. 
T\'hat  things  you  make  of  us  I  For  what  we  lack 
^Ve  laugh,  for  what  we  have  are  sorry ;  still 
Are  children  in  some  kind.     Let  us  be  thankful 
Tor  that  which  is,  and  with  you  leave  dispute 
That  are  above  our  (juestion. —  Let's  go  off. 
And  bear  us  like  the  time.  {Flourish,  Bxeumi, 

EPILOGUE. 

I  would  now  ask  ye  how  ye  like  the  play ; 

Ikit,  as  it  is  with  schoolboys,  cannot  -  -^ 

I'm  cruel-fearful.     I'r.iy.  yet  sta\  a  \ 

And  let  me  look  upon  ye.     No  man 

Tiien  it  goes  hard.  I  see.     He  that  has 

Lov'd  a  young  handsome  wench,  then,  show  his  face,— 

' Tis  strange  if  none  be  here.—  and.  if  he  will 

Against  his  conscience,  let  him  hiss.  an<l  kill 

Oiir  market.     'Tis  in  v.iin.  I  s«e.  t..  st  iv  yr  : 

Have  at  the  worst  can  come,  tlvti  !  Now  what  say  yc  ? 

T.N.K     80.1  ^ 


^.v  k',1  FHR   TWO  NCBLE  KINSMEN  iScfit* iV, 

And  yet  mistake  me  not ;  1  am  not  bold  •. 

We  have  no  such  cause.     If  the  tale  we've  told**- 

For  'tis  no  other  —  any  way  content  ye,— 

For  to  that  honest  purpose  it  was  meant  ye,— 

AVe  have  our  end ;  and  ye  shall  have  ere  long, 

1  dare  say,  many  a  better,  to  prolong 

Your  old  loves  to  us.     We  and  all  our  might 

Rest  at  your  service :  gentlemen,  good  night 


Vli.  43a* 


lilJWARI)     111! 


RI). 


DKA.MAIIS    PERSON/K. 


of 


EinVARI)    TIIK 

f>f  Kiiglaiul. 
P:i>\vaki),     Friuce 

his  Son. 
Earl  of  Warv.'ick. 
Earl  OF  Dkrby. 
Earl  ofSalisulry. 
L')Ri>  Aldlky. 

L(JRlJ   I'ERCV. 

Lc)  IX)  WICK,     Edward's 

dant. 
Sir  William  Montagii:. 
Sir  John  C»j1'lani>. 
Two    Esquires   and    a  Herald 

En^dish. 
RnisKKT.  styling  himself 

of  Artois. 
Earl  ()F  Montfort. 
GoiMN  DE  Gray. 
John,  King  of  France. 


Third,    King  i  Chaki.f.s,  / 

i  Philip,      f 

Wales.     DiKF.  f»K 


11  IS  .Siins. 


Confi. 


Earl 


OkRAI 
Vll  LIKRS.   a   I   rrsw 

King  of  Hoh. 
A  Polish  (a;. 
Two  Citi/cnsoi  i 
A  Captain,  and  a  1-1 

tant.     '    ' 
.Anoiln 
Three     ... 

other  Krc; 
I>vvii).   K  !. 
Eaki    I ' 
Tw  o  M 


a  Maiiorr. 


Lords,  and   ili 


)tlier 


Allcndan! 
dicrs,  clt. 


SC I-:  N  K-  -  Dis  />,■>■  <r\ I  •   .•"/;  /•'/;  •/.;//./  FJa  nj. , 


ACT  1. 

Scene  I. — London.     A  Ixoot/s ,,  .-,....  .-.  ...  /  .-,.*./. 

Flourish.     Entir  A'/fti:  EpwarD.  attrfiJeJ.    I'kim  KOF 

Wai.e.s.  Warwick.  I)ERin     ' —    ■     * 

and  of/t,  • 
Iidwtird.   Robert  of  Arloi.s.  l).in:Mi  ii   tnou;;')   nwni    t>e 
From  France,  ihv  native  countn*.  vet  with  us 


K.  III.    3.1 


Met  I.}  SIfjrARD  THS.  THIRA 

Thou  shalt  retain  as  great  a  signioiy; 
For  we  create  thee  Earl  of  Richmond  hen. 
And  now  go  forwards  with  our  pedigree ; 
Who  next  succeeded  Philip  Le  Beau? 

Arf.  Three  sons  of  his  ;  which  all.  succ€sai."V^, 
Did  sit  upon  their  father's  regal  throne  ; 
Yet  died,  and  left  no  issue  of  their  loins. 

Ediu,  But  was  my  mother  sister  unto  those? 

A?'f.  She  was,  my  lord ;  and  only  Isabelle, 
Was  all  the  daughters  that  this  Philip  bad: 
^Vhom  afterward  your  father  took  to  wife  ; 
And,  from  the  fragrant  garden  of  her  womb, 
Your  gracious  self,  the  flower  of  Europe's  hope, 
Derived  is  inheritor  to  France. 
But  note  the  rancor  of  rebellious  minds. 
When  thus  the  lineage  of  Le  Beau  was  out. 
The  French  obscur'd  your  mother's  privilege ; 
And,  though  she  were  the  next  of  blood,  proclaini*d 
John,  of  the  house  of  Valois,  now  their  king: 
The  reason  was,  they  say,  the  realm  of  France^ 
Replete  with  princes  of  great  parentage. 
Ought  not  admit  a  governor  to  rule. 
Except  he  be  descended  of  the  male; 
And  that's  the  special  ground  of  their  contem|rt. 
Wherewith  they  study  to  exclude  your  grace  : 
But  they  shall  hnd  that  forged  ground  of  theirs 
To  be  but  dusty  heaps  of  brittle  sand. 
Perhaps,  it  will  be  thought  a  heinous  thing. 
That  I,  a  Frenchman,  should  discover  this  : 
But  Heaven  I  call  to  record  of  my  vows; 
It  is  not  hate,  nor  any  private  wrong, 
But  love  unto  my  countr}%  and  the  right, 
Provokes  my  tongue  thus  lavish  in  report : 
You  are  the  lineal  watchman  of  our  peace. 
And  John  of  Valois  indirectly  climbs  : 
What  then  should  subjects,  but  embrace  their  king? 
And  wherein  may  our  duty  more  be  seen, 
Than,  striving  to  rebate  a  tyrant's  pride. 
Place  the  true  shepherd  of  our  commonwealth  } 

Edw,  This  counsel,  Artois,  like  to  fruitful  showcfk 
Hath  added  growth  unto  my  dignity : 
Andf  by  the  fiery  vigor  of  thy  words. 


4t^I,\  KD1VARD  THE  TnntXK  \ytmm  I 

Hot  courage  is  cngender'd  in  my  brcaH. 
Which  herrioforc  was  rak'd  in  ignorance; 
But  now  doih  iiioUDt  with  goldc  n  uings  of  fara^ 
And  will  approve  fair  isabellc's  d(S(  t  nl 
Able  to  yoke  their  stubborn  necks  \sirh  sled 
That  spurn  against  my  sov'rcigniy  in  France. — 

A  messenger?— Lord  Audlcy,  know  from  whence. 

JA'.r//  AUDLEV.  itnd  returns. 
And.  The  Duke  of  Lorrain,  having  cross'd  the  !»c.i5. 
Entreats  he  may  have  conference  with  your  highness. 
Edw,  Admit  hiin,  lords,  that  we  may  hear  the  news.— . 
\Exeunt  Lords,     King  takes  Mis  state. 

Re-enter  Lords;  lut'th  LORRAlN,  attended. 

Say,  Duke  of  Lorrain.  wherefore  art  thou  come? 

Lor,  The  most  renownt^d  prince.  King  John  of  France 
Doth  greet  thee,  Edward  :  and  by  me  commandl^ 
That,  for  so  much  as  by  his  liberal  gift 
The  Guyenne  dukedom  is  enlail'd  to  thee; 
Thou  do  him  lowly  homage  for  the  same : 
And,  for  that  purpose,  here  I  summon  thee 
Repair  to  France  within  these  forty  dayi. 
That  there,  according  as  the  custom  is. 
Thou  may'st  be  sworn  true  liegeman  to  the  kinf ; 
Or,  else,  thy  title  in  that  province  dies. 
And  he  himself  will  repossess  the  place. 

Edw.  See,  how  occasion  laughs  me  in  the  £AOt ! 
No  sooner  minded  to  prepare  for  France, 
IJut,  straight,  I  am  invited;  nay,  with  threall^ 
Upon  a  penalty,  enjoin'd  to  come: 
'Twere  but  a  foolish  part,  to  sav  him  nay. — 
Lorrain,  return  this  answer  to  thy  lord  : 
I  mean  to  visit  him.  as  he  requests; 
But  how  ?  not  servilely  dispos'd  to  bend  ; 
But  like  a  conqueror,  to  make  him  l)Ow  : 
His  lame  unpolish'd  shifts  are  come  to  light ; 
And  truth  hath  jniird  the  vis.ird  from  hu  fAO% 
That  set  a  gloss  upon  his  arrogance. 
Dare  he  command  a  fealty  in  me? 
Tell  him,  the  crown,  that  he  usurps.  Is  mi»e; 
And  where  he  sets  his  foot,  he  ought  to  kned: 

cm.  S<1  VII     4JT 


^£i/.}  EDWARD  THE  THIRD.  {Scent  K 

*Tis  not  a  petty  dukedom  that  I  claim, 
But  all  the  whole  dominions  of  the  realm; 
Which  if  with  grudging  he  refuse  to  yield, 
I'll  take  away  those  borrow'd  plumes  of  his. 
And  send  him  naked  to  the  wilderness. 

Lor.  Then,  Edward,  here,  in  sight  of  all  thy  lords, 
I  do  pronounce  defiance  to  thy  face. 

Prince.   Defiance,  Frenchman  ?  we  rebound  it  back 
£ven  to  the  bottom  of  thy  master's  throat : 
And, —  be  it  spoke  with  reverence  of  the  king 
My  gracious  father,  and  these  other  lords, — 
I  hold  thy  message  but  as  scurrilous  ; 
And  him,  that  sent  thee,  like  the  lazy  drone, 
Crept  up  by  stealth  unto  the  eagle's  nest ; 
From  whence  we'll  shake  him  with  so  rough  a  storm, 
As  others  shall  be  warned  by  his  harm. 

War,  Bid  him  leave  off  the  lion's  case  he  wears; 
Lest,  meeting  with  the  lion  in  the  field, 
He  chance  to  tear  him  piecemeal  for  his  pride. 

Art.  The  soundest  counsel  I  can  give  his  grace, 
Is,  to  surrender  ere  he  be  constrain'd* 
A  voluntary  mischief  hath  less  scorn, 
Than  when  reproach  with  violence  is  borne. 

Lor.  Degenerate  traitor,  viper  to  the  place 
Where  thou  wast  foster'd  in  thine  infancy, 

[Drawifig  his  swords 
Bear'st  thou  a  part  in  this  conspiracy  ? 

Edw.  Lorrain,  behold  the  sharpness  of  this  steel : 

^Drawing  kts. 
Fervent  desire,  that  sits  against  my  heart. 
Is  far  more  thorny-pricking  than  this  blade ; 
That,  with  the  nightingale,  I  shall  be  scar'd, 
As  oft  as  I  dispose  myself  to  rest. 
Until  my  colors  •be  display 'd  in  France  : 
This  is  thy  final  answer  ;  so  be  gone. 

Lor.  It  is  not  that,  nor  any  English  brave, 
Afflicts  miC  so,  as  doth  his  poison'd  view ; 
That  is  most  false,  should  most  of  all  be  true. 

[Exeunt  LoRRAiN,  andTratn, 

Edw.  Now,  lords,  our  fleeting  bark  is  under  sail : 
Our  gage  is  thrown  ;  and  war  is  soon  begun. 
But  not  so  quickly  brought  unto  an  end. — 

VH.  4:A  [S.U1.  & 


^'ff'l  SDll'ARD  THE  THIRD.  IJ*#^X 

Ent^  Sir  William  Mountacue. 

But  wherefore  comes  Sir  William  Mounlague? 
How  stands  the  lea^^ue  between  the  Scot  and  us  } 

Moun.  Crack'd  and  dissevtr'd,  my  renowned  lorxi 
The  treacherous  king  no  sooner  was  inform 'd 
Of  your  withdrawing  of  our  army  back. 
But  straight,  forgetting  of  his  fornu-r  oath, 
He  made  invasion  on  the  bordtring  towns: 
Berwick  is  won  ;  Newcastle  si)()ircl  and  lost  ; 
And  now  the  tyrant  hath  l)tgirt  with  sii-gc 
The  castle  of  Roxhorough,  where  inclos'd 
The  Countess  Salisbury  is  like  to  perish. 

Ethtf.  That  is  thy  da'ughter.  Warwick,  is  it  not  ; 
Whose  husband  hath  in  lUetagne  serv'd  so  long, 
About  the  planting  of  Lord  Montfort  there  ? 

War.  It  is.  my  lord. 

Ed7u.  Ignoble  David  !  hast  thou  none  to  grieve. 
But  silly  ladies,  with  thy  threatening  arms? 
But  I  will  make  you  shrink  your  snaily  horns. — 
First,  therefore,  Audley,  this  shall  be  thy  charge; 
Go  levy  footmen  for  our  wars  in  France  ;  — 
And,  Ned.  take  muster  of  our  men  at  arms  : 
In  every  shire  elect  a  several  band  ; 
Let  them  be  soldiers  of  a  lusty  si)irit. 
Such  as  dread  nothing  but  dishonor's  blot : 
Be  wary  therefore  ;  since  we  do  commence 
A  famous  war,  and  with  so  nnghly  a  nation.— 
Derby,  be  thou  ambassador  for  us 
Unto  our  father-in-law.  the  Earl  of  Hainault: 
Make  him  acquainted  with  our  enterprise; 
And  likewise  will  him,  with  our  own  allies. 
That  are  in  Flanders,  to  solicit  too 
The  EmjXTor  of  Almaigne  in  our  name. — 
Myself,  whilst  you  are  jointly  thus  employ'd. 
Will,  with  these  forces  that  I  have  at  hand, 
March,  and  once  more  repulse  ihr  Irail'rous  ScoCIl 
But,  sirs,  be  resolute;  we  shall  have  wars 
On  every  side  :  —  and.  Ned.  thou  must  begin 
Now  to  forget  thy  study  and  thy  books. 
And  ure  thy  shoulders  to  an  armor's  weight. 

Prince.  As  cheerful  sounding  to  my  youtnful  s^ittm. 

E.ni.7.1  Vtl    KYh 


Act/.']  BDIVARD  THE  THIRD-  iScene IL 

This  tumult  is  of  war's  increasing  broils. 

As,  at  the  coronation  of  a  king, 

The  joyful  clamors  of  the  people  are, 

When,  "  Ave,  Csesar  ! "  they  pronounce  aloud  ; 

Within  this  school  of  honor  I  shall  learn, 

Either  to  sacrifice  my  foes  to  death. 

Or  in  a  rightful  quarrel  spend  my  breath. 

Then  cheerfully  forward,  each  a  several  way ; 

In  great  affairs  'tis  naught  to  use  delay.  \_Exeunt» 

Scene  II. —  Roxborough,     Before  the  Castle. 

Enter  Countess  ^SALISBURY,  and  certain  of  her  peo- 
ple, upon  the  ivalls, 

Coimt.  Alas,  how  much  in  vain  my  poor  eyes  gaze 
For  succor  that  my  sovereign  should  send  ! 
Ah,  cousin  Mountague,  I  fear,  thou  want'st 
The  lively  spirit  sharply  to  solicit 
With  vehement  suit  the  king  in  my  behalf : 
Thou  dost  not  tell  him,  what  a  grief  it  is 
To  be  the  scornful  captive  to  a  Scot ; 
Either  to  be  woo'd  with  broad  untuned  oaths, 
Orforc'd  by  rough  insulting  barbarism: 
Thou  dost  not  tell  him,  if  he  here  prevail, 
How  much  they  will  deride  us  in  the  north ; 
And,  in  their  vile,  uncivil,  skipping  jigs. 
Bray  forth  their  conquest,  and  our  overthrow, 
Even  in  the  barren,  bleak,  and  fruitless  air. 

Enter  King  David  and  Forces  ;  with  DOUGLAS,  LOR- 
RAIN,  and  others. 

I  must  withdraw  ;  the  everlasting  foe 
Comes  to  the  wall :  I'll  closely  step  aside, 
And  list  their  babble,  blunt,  and  full  of  pride. 

[Retiri?ig  behind  the  works^ 
Dav.  My  Lord  of  Lorrain,  to  our  brother  of  France 
Commend  us,  as  the  man  in  Christendom 
Whom  we  most  reverence,  and  entirely  love. 
Touching  your  embassage,  return,  and  say, 
That  we  with  England  will  not  enter  parley, 
Nor  never  make  fair  weather,  or  take  truc2  ; 
But  bum  their  neighbor  towns,  and  so  persist 

YII.  440.  U.III.II 


^^^•3  SDU'AKD  THE  THIRD. 


tk 


With  eager  roads  beyond  their  city  York. 
And  never  shall  our  bonny  riders  rest ; 
Nor  rusting  canker  have  the  time  to  cat 
Their  light-horn  snaffles,  nor  their  nimble  spun; 
Nor  lay  aside  their  jacks  of  gvmold  mail ; 
Nor  hang  their  staves  of  grai'nW  Scottish  ash. 
In  peaceful  wise,  upon  their  city  walls; 
Nor  from  their  button 'd  tawny  leathern  i)e!ts 
Dismiss  their  biting  whinyards,—  'till  your  kinjf 
Cry  out,  Enough  ;  spare  England  now'-  for  pity. 
Farewell  ;  and  tell  him.  that  you  leave  us  here 
Before  this  castle  ;  say,  you  came  from  us 
Even  when  we  had  that  yielded  to  our  hands. 

Lor.  I  take  my  leave  ;  and  fairly  w  ill  return 
Your  acceptable  greeting  to  my  king.  \ExiU 

Dav.  Now,  Douglas,  to  our  former  task  agam, 
For  the  division  of  this  certain  spoil. 

Doug.   My  liege,  I  crave  the  lady,  and  no  more. 

Dav.  Nay,  soft  ye,  sir,  first  I  must  make  my  choice; 
And  first  I  do  bespeak  her  for  myself. 

Doug.  Why  then,  my  liege,  let  me  enjoy  her  jewclt. 

Dav.  Those  are  her  own,  still  liable  to  her. 
And,  who  inherits  her,  has  those  withal. 

Enter  a  Messenger^  hastily, 

Msss.  My  liege,  as  we  were  pricking  on  the  hiHi* 
To  fetch  in  booty,  marching  hithenvard 
We  might  descry  a  mighty  host  of  men  : 
The  sun,  reflecting  on  the  armor,  show'd 
A  field  of  plate,  a  wood  of  pikes  advanc'd ; 
Bethink  your  highness  speedily  herein  : 
An  easy  march  within  four  hours  will  brings 
The  hindmost  rank  unto  this  place,  my  liege. 

Da7>.  Dislodge,  dislodge,  it  is  the  King  of  England. 

Doug.  Jemmy  my  man.  saddle  mv  bonny  bl.uk. 

Dai*.  Mean'st  thou  to  fight.  Douglas.^  wr    ■-  •   -  acaIc, 

Doug.   I  know  it  well,  mv  liege,  and  the: 

Count.  My  lords  of  Scotland,  will  ye  sl.i>  k? 

{Rt'sini^  from  h(r  .  or,,  ,a'mtnU 

Dav.  She  mocks  at  us;  Douglas.  I  can't  endure  it. 

Count.  Say,  good  my  lord,  wnich  is  he,  must  have  Um 
lady ; 
B.ni.  f.]  ^n.  441. 


/I«/J  EDIVARD  THE  THIRD.  {Scene  IL 

And  which,  ner  jewels  ?  I  am  sure,  my  lords. 
Ye  will  not  hence,  'till  you  have  shar'd  the  spoils. 

Dav.  She  heard  the  messenger,  and  heard  our  talk ; 
And  now  that  comfort  makes  her  scorn  at  us. 

Enter  atiother  Alessenger. 

Mess.  Arm,  my  good  lord  ;    O,  we  are  all  surpris'd  ? 

Count.  After  the  French  ambassador,  my  liege, 
And  tell  him  that  you  dare  not  ride  to  York  ; 
Excuse  it,  that  your  bonny  horse  is  lame. 

Dav.  She  heard  that  too  ;  intolerable  grief !  — 
Woman,  farewell :  although  I  do  not  stay, — 

\Alaru7ns.     Exeunt  Scots^ 

Count.  'Tis  not  for  fear, —  and  yet  you  run  away. — 
O  happy  comfort,  welcome  to  our  house ! 
The  confident  and  boist'rous  boasting  Scot, — 
That  swore  before  my  walls,  he  would  not  back. 
For  all  the  armed  power  of  this  land, — 
With  faceless  fear,  that  ever  turns  his  back, 
Turn'd  hence  against  the  blasting  north-east  wind. 
Upon  the  bare  report  and  name  of  arms. 

Enter  MOUNTAGUE,  and  others, 
O  summer's  day  !  see  where  my  cousin  comes. 

Moun.  How  fares  my  aunt.^     Why,  aunt,  we  are  not 
Scots ; 
Why  do  you  shut  your  gates  against  your  friends  } 

Count.  Well  may  I  give  a  welcome,  cousin,  to  thee» 
For  thou  com'st  well  to  chase  my  foes  from  hence. 

Moun.  The  king  himself  is  come  in  person  hither; 
Dear  aunt,  descend,  and  gratulate  his  highness. 

Count.  How  may  I  entertain  his  majesty, 
To  show  my  duty,  and  his  dignity  }      [Exit,  from  above. 

Flourish.  Enter  King  Edwwrd,  Vx'arwick,  Artois, 
and  others. 

Ediu,  What,  are  the  stealing  foxes  fled  and  gone. 
Before  we  could  uncouple  at  their  heels  } 

War.  They  are,  my  liege ;  but,  with  a  cheerful  cr)'. 
Hot  hounds,  and  hardy,  chase  them  at  the  heels. 

Re-enter  Countess,  attended. 
Edw,  This  is  the  countess,  Warwick,  is  it  not  ? 

vi:.  44s.  [s.m.  m> 


Act  I.]  EDlt'ARD  THE  THIRD.  (i#«* /A 

War.  Even  she,  my  liege  :  whose  beauty  t>Tant  fear. 

As  a  May  blossom  \sith  pernicious  winds. 
Hath  sullied,  wilher'd,  ovt-rcasl,  and  done. 

Edw.   Haih  she  been  fairer,  Warwick,  than  she  U* 

IVar.  My  gracious  king,  fair  is  she  not  at  all, 
If  that  herself  were  by  to  stain  herself. 
As  I  have  seen  her  w  hen  she  was  herself. 

luhu.  What  stiange  enchantment  lurk'd  in   those  her 
eyes, 
When  they  excell'd  this  excellence  they  have. 
That  now  their  dim  decline  hath  power  to  draw 
My  subject  eyes  from  piercing  majesty. 
To  gaze  on  lier  with  doting  admiration? 

Count.  In  duty  lower  than  the  ground  I  kneel, 
And  for  my  dull  knees  bow  my  feeling  heart. 
To  witness  my  obedience  to  your-highness; 
With  many  millions  of  a  subject's  thanks 
For  this  your  royal  presence,  whose  approach 
Hath  driven  war  and  danger  from  my  gate. 

Edw.  Lady,  stand  up  :  I  come  to  bring  ihcc  peace. 
However  thereby  1  have  purchas'd  war. 

Count.  No  war  to  you,  my  liege ;  the  Scots  arc  gon^ 
And  gallop  home  towards  Scotland  w  ith  their  haste, 

Ed7L'.  Lest  yielding  here  I  pine  in  shameful  love. 
Come,  we'll  pursue  the  Scots  ; —  Artois,  away. 

Count.  A  little  while,  my  gracious  sovereign,  stay. 
And  let  the  i)ower  of  a  mighty  king 
Honor  our  roof ;  my  husband  in  the  wars. 
When  he  shall  hear  it,  w  ill  triumph  for  joy  : 
Then,  dear  my  liege,  now  niggard  not  thy  state; 
Being  at  the  wall,  enter  our  homely  gate. 

Edzv.  Pardon  me,  countess,  I  will  come  no  near; 
I  dream'd  to-night  of  treason,  and  I  feor. 

Count.  Far  from  this  place  let  ugly  treason  lief 

Edw.  No  further  off,  than  her  conspiring  eye; 
Which  shoots  infected  poison  in  my  heart. 
Beyond  repulse  of  wit,  or  cure  of  arU 
Now  in  the  sun  alone  it  doth  not  lie. 
With  light  to  take  light  from  a  mortal  eye; 
For  here  two  day-stars,  that  mine  eyes  would  teC, 
More  than  the  sun,  steal  mine  own  light  from  BM. 
Contemplative  desire!  desire  to  be 

B.UI.  IX.3  VII    *4» 


Aei/l.l  EDIVARD  THE  THIRD.  l^ttuH. 

In  contemplation,  that  may  master  thee ! 
Warwick,  Artois,  to  horse,  and  let's  away. 

Count.  What  might  I  speak,  to  make  my   sovereign 

stay  ? 

Edw.  What  needs  a  tongue  to  such  a  speaking  eye* 
That  more  persuades  than  winning  orator}'  ? 

Count.  Let  not  thy  presence,  like  the  April  sun, 
Flatter  our  earth,  and  suddenly  be  done. 
More  happy  do  not  make  our  outward  wall, 
Than  thou  wilt  grace  our  inward  house  withal. 
Our  house,  my  liege,  is  like  a  country  swain, 
Whose  habit  rude,  and  manners  blunt  and  plain, 
Presageth  naught ;  yet  inly  beautified 
With  bounty's  riches,  and  fair  hidden  pride : 
For,  where  the  golden  ore  doth  buried  lie, 
The  ground,  undeck'd.  with  nature's  tapestry. 
Seems  barren,  sere,  unfertile,  fruitless,  dr\' ; 
And  where  the  upper  turf  of  earth  doth  boast 
His  pied  perfumes,  and  party-color'd  cost, 
Delve  there,  and  find  this  issue,  and  their  pride. 
To  spring  from  ordure,  and  corruption's  side. 
But,  to  make  up  my  all  too  long  compare, — 
These  ragged  walls  no  testimony  are 
What  is  within  ;  but,  like  a  cloak,  doth  hide. 
From  weather's  waste,  the  under  garnish'd  pride. 
More  gracious  than  my  terms  can  let  thee  be, 
Intreat  thyself  to  stay  a  while  with  me. 

Edw.  As  wise  as  fair ;  what  fond  fit  can  be  heard. 
When  wisdom  keeps  the  gate  as  beauty's  guard? — 
Countess,  albeit  my  business  urgeth  me. 
It  shall  attend,  while  I  attend  on  thee. — 
Come  on,  m.y  lords,  here  will  I  host  to-night.      \^Exeunii 

ACT  II. 
Scene  I.     The  same.     Gardens  of  the  Castle, 

Enter  LODOWICK. 

Lodowick.  I  might  perceive  his  eye  in  her  eye  lost. 
His  ear  to  drink  her  sweet  tongue's  utterance ; 
And  changing  passion,  like  inconstant  clouds, — 
That,  rack'd  upon  the  carriage  of  the  winds. 
Increase,  and  die, —  in  his  disturbed  cheeks. 

VIL  444^-  [b.111.  tti 


(id I/.)  SDU'ARD  THE  THIRD.  \S.m^  L 

Lo,  when  she  blush 'd.  even  then  did  he  look  pak ; 

As  if  her  checks,  by  sonic  enchanted  power, 

Attracted  had  the  cherry  blood  from  his  : 

Anon,  with  reverent  fear  when  she  grew  pale. 

His  cheeks  put  on  their  scarlet  ornamcnis ; 

But  no  more  hke  her  oriental  red. 

Than  brick  to  coral,  or  live  thmgs  lo  dead. 

Why  did  he  then  thus  counterfeit  her  looks? 

If  she  did  blush,  'twas  tender  modest  shame. 

Being  in  the  sacred  presence  of  a  king; 

If  he  did  blush,  'twas  red  immodest  shame. 

To  vail  his  eyes  amiss,  being  a  king  : 

If  she  look'd  pale,  'twas  silly  woman's  fear, 

To  bear  herself  in  presence  of  a  king  ; 

If  he  look'd  pale,  it  was  with  guilty  fear. 

To  dote  amiss,  being  a  mighty  king  : 

Then,  Scottish  wars,  farewell  ;  I  fear,  'twill  prove 

A  ling'ring  English  siege  of  j)eevish  love. 

Here  comes  his  highness,  walking  all  alone. 

Enter  Kin^  Edward. 

Edw.  She  is  grown  more  fairer  far  since  I  camehilher^ 
Her  voice  more  silver  every  word  than  other. 
Her  wit  more  fluent :  what  a  strange  discourse 
Unfolded  she,  of  David,  and  his  Scots  ? 
"  Even  thus,"  quoth  she,  "he  spake,"— and  then  spoilt 

broad. 
With  epithets  and  accents  of  the  Scots  ; 
But  somewhat  better  than  the  Scot  could  speak  : 
''And  thus."  quoth  she,— and  answer'd  then  herself  5 
For  who  could  speak  like  her?  but  she  herself 
Breathes  from  the  wall  an  angel's  note  fiom  heaven 
Of  sweet  defiance  to  her  barbarous  foes. 
When  she  would  talk  of  peace,  methinks.  hrr  tongxie 
Commanded  war  to  |)ris()n  :  w  hen  of  war. 
It  waken 'd  Ca-sar  from  his  Koman  grave. 
To  hear  war  beautified  by  her  discourse. 
Wisdom  is  foolishness,  but  in  her  tongue; 
Beauty  a  slander,  but  in  her  fair  face  : 
There  is  no  summer,  but  in  her  cheerful  looks; 
Nor  frosty  winter,  but  in  her  distlain. 
I  cannot  blame  the  Scots,  that  did  besiege  bcr. 

Ban.  13.)  VII.  445- 


Act  IS. I  J^Dn^ARP  THE  THIRD.  ISceiu  A 

For  she  is  all  the  treasure  of  our  land  ; 

But  call  them  cowards,  that  they  ran  away. 

Having  so  rich  and  fair  a  cause  to  stay. — 

Art  thou  there,  Lodowick  ?  give  me  ink  and  paper. 

Lod.   I  will,  my  sovereign. 

Edw.  And  bid  the  lords  hold  on  their  play  at  chess, 
For  we  will  walk  and  meditate  alone. 

Lod.  I  will,  my  liege.  lE^iA 

Edw.  This  fellow  is  well>  read  in  poetry. 
And  hath  a  lusty  and  persuasive  spirit : 
I  will  acquaint  him  with  my  passion  ; 
Which  he  shall  shadow  with  a  veil  of  lawn, 
Through  which  the  queen  of  beauty's  queens  shall  see 
Herself  the  ground  of  my  infirmity. — 

Re-enter  LODOWICK. 

Hast  thou  pen,  ink,  and  paper  ready,  Lodowick? 

Lod.  Ready,  my  liege. 

Edw.  Then  in  the  summer  arbor  sit  by  me. 
Make  it  our  council-house,  or  cabinet ; 
Since  green  our  thoughts,  green  be  the  conventicle 
Where  we  will  ease  us  by  disburd'ning  them. 
Now,  Lodowick,  invocate  some  golden  muse. 
To  bring  thee  hither  an  enchanted  pen, 
That  may,  for  sighs,  set  down  true  sighs  indeed ; 
Talking  of  grief,  to  make  thee  ready  groan  ; 
And,  when  thou  writ'st  of  tears,  encouch  the  word. 
Before,  and  after,  with  such  sweet  laments, 
That  it  may  raise  drops  in  a  Tartar's  eye, 
And  make  a  flint  heart  Scythian  pitiful  : 
For  so  much  moving  hath  a  poet's  pen  ; 
Then,  if  thou  be  a  poet,  move  thou  so, 
And  be  enriched  by  thy  sovereign's  love. 
For,  if  the  touch  of  sweet  concordant  strings 
Could  force  attendance  in  the  ears  of  hell, 
How  much  more  shall  the  strains  of  poet's  wit 
Beguile,  and  ravish,  soft  and  humane  minds  .^ 

Lod.  To  whom,  my  lord,  shall  I  direct  my  style  ? 

Edw.  To  one  that  shames  the  fair,  and  sots  the  wisej 
Whose  body,  as  an  abstract,  or  a  brief, 
Contains  each  general  virtue  in  the  world  : 
Better  than  beautiful, —  thou  must  begin ; 


Act  It.)  SDiyARD  THE  THIRD.  [St* 

Devise  for  fair  a  fairer  word  than  fair; 

And  every  ornament   tiiat  thou  wouldst  praiie. 

Fly  it  a  pitch  above  the  soar  of  praise  : 

For  flattery  fear  tiiou  not  to  be  convicted; 

For,  were  thy  admiration  ten  times  more, 

Ten  times  ten  thousand  more  the  worth  cxcecdt. 

Of  that  thou  art  to  praise,  thy  praise's  worth. 

Bej^in,  I  will  to  contemplate  tiic  while: 

Forget  not  to  set  down,  how  passionate, 

How  heart-sick,  and  how  full  of  languishmcnt, 

Her  beauty  makes  me. 

Lod.  Writs  I  to  a  woman  ? 

Edw.  What  beauty  else  could  triumph  over  mc; 
Or  who,  but  woman,  do  our  love-lays  greet  ? 
What,  think'st  thou  I  did  bid  thee  praise  a  horse? 

LocL  Of  what  condition  or  estate  she  is, 
'Twere  requisite  that  I  should  know,  my  lord. 

Eciw.  Of  such  a  stale,  that  iicrs  is  as  a  throne. 
And  my  estate  the  footstool  where  she  treads : 
Then  may'st  thou  judge  what  her  condition  is. 
By  the  proportion  of  her  mightiness. 
Write  on,  while  I  peruse  her  in  my  thoughts.— 
Her  voice  to  music,  or  the  nightingale  :  — 
To  music  every  summer-leaping  swain 
Compares  his  sun-burnt  lover  when  she  speaki: 
And  why  should  I  speak  of  the  nightingale? 
The  nightingale  sings  of  adulterate  wrong; 
And  that,  compar'd,  is  too  satirical : 
For  sin,  though  sin,  would  not  be  so  esteem'd; 
But,  rather,  virtue  sin,  sin  virtue  decm'd. 
Her  hair,  far  softer  than  the  silkworm's  twist. 
Like  to  a  flattering  glass,  doth  make  more  fair 
The  yellow  amber :  like  a  flattering  glass 
Comes  in  too  soon  ;  for,  writing  of  lur  eyes. 
Ml  say,  that  like  a  glass  ihry  catch  the  sun. 
And  thence  the  hot  reflection  doth  rebound 
Against  my  breast,  and  burns  mv  heart  within. 
Ah,  what  a  woHd  of  dtscanl  makes  my  soul 
Upon  this  voluntar)-  ground  of  love  !  — 
Come,  Lodowick.  hast  ihou  turn'd  thy  ink  logoidf 
If  not,  write  but  in  letters  capital 
My  mistress'  name, 

m,Hi.  .5.)  ^"^  ••► 


Actll,^  SDWARD  THE  THIRD,  [Sctnti. 

And  it  will  gild  thy  paper :  read,  lord,  read. 
Fill  thou  the  empty  hollows  of  mine  ears 
With  the  sweet  hearing  of  thy  poetry. 

Lod.  I  have  not  to  a  period  brought  her  praise. 

Edw.  Her  praise  is  as  my  love,  both  infinite, 
Which  apprehend  such  violent  extremes. 
That  they  disdain  an  ending  period. 
Her  beauty  hath  no  match,  but  my  affection  ; 
Hers    more    than    most,   mine    most,   and    more    than 

more : 
Hers  more  to  praise,  than  tell  the  sea  by  drops ; 
Nay,  more,  than  drop  the  massy  earth  by  sands, 
And,  sand  by  sand,  print  them  in  memory : 
Then  wherefore  talk'st  thou  of  a  period, 
To  that  which  craves  unended  admiration  ? 
Read,  let  us  hear. 

Lod.  "  More  fair,   and  chaste,  than  is  the  queen  of 
shades," — 

Edw.  That  line  hath  two  faults,  gross  and  palpable: 
Compar'st  thou  her  to  the  pale  queen  of  night. 
Who,  being  set  in  dark,  seems  therefore  light? 
What  is  she,  when  the  sun  lifts  up  his  head. 
But  like  a  fading  taper,  dim  and  dead  ? 
^ly  love  shall  brave  the  eye  of  heaven  at  noon, 
And,  being  unmask'd,  outshine  the  golden  sun. 

Lod.  What  is  the  other  fault,  my  sovereign  lord? 

Edm.  Read  o'er  the  line  again. 

Lod.  "  More  fair,  and  chaste," — 

Edm.  I  did  not  bid  thee  talk  of  chastity. 
To  ransack  so  the  treasure  of  her  mind 
For  I  had  rather  have  her  chas'd,  than  chaste. 
Out  with  the  moon-line,  I  will  none  of  it, 
And  let  me  have  her  liken'd  to  the  sun  ; 
Say,  she  hath  thrice  more  splendor  than  the  sun. 
That  her  perfection  emulates  the  sun. 
That  she  breeds  sweets  as  plenteous  as  the  sun. 
That  she  doth  thaw  cold  winter  like  the  sun, 
That  she  doth  cheer  fresh  summer  like  the  sun, 
That  she  doth  dazzle  gazers  like  the  sun  : 
And,  in  this  appHcation  to  the  sun. 
Bid  her  be  free  and  general  as  the  sun  ; 
Who  smiles  upon  the  basest  weed  that  grows, 

VJI.  448.  [«.lii.  14 


4£t//.]  SDH'ARD  THE  THIRD-  {Sum  l. 

As  lovingly  as  on  the  fragrant  rose. 

Let's  see  what  follows  that  same  moon-light  line. 

LoJ.  "More   fair,   and   chaste,   than  is  the  queen  ol 
shades : 
More  bold  \\\  constancy  " — 

Edw.  In  constancy  !  than  w  ho  ? 

Lod.  — "  than  Judith  was." 

Edw.  O  monstrous  line  !     Put  in  the  next  a  sword. 
And  I  shall  woo  her  to  cut  off  my  head. 
Blot,  blot,  good  Lodowick  !     Let'us  hear  the  next, 

Lod.  There's  all  that  yet  is  done. 

Edw.  I  thank  thee  then,  thou  hast  done  little  ill ; 
But  what  is  done,  is  p.issing  passing  ill. 
No,  let  the  captain  talk  of  boist'rous  war; 
The  prisoner,  of  immured  dark  constraint  ; 
The  sick  man  best  sets  down  the  pangs  of  death; 
The  man  that  starves,  the  sweetness  of  a  feast; 
The  frozen  soul,  the  benetit  of  fire; 
And  every  grief,  his  hapj)y  oj)|)osite  : 
Love  cannot  sound  well,  but  in  lovers'  tongues; 
Give  me  the  pen  and  paper,  1  will  write. — 

Enter  COUNT  ESS. 

But,  soft,  here  comes  the  treasurer  of  my  spirit.— 
Lodowick,  thou  know'st  not  how  to  draw  a  battle; 
These  wings,  these  Hankers,  and  these  squadrons 
Argue  in  thee  defective  discipline  : 
Thou  shouldst  have  plac'd  this  here,  this  other  here. 

Count.   Pardon  my  boldness,  my  thrice  gracious  lord  ; 
Let  my  intrusion  here  be  call'd  my  duly. 
That  comes  to  see  my  sovereign  how  he  fares. 

Ed7i'.  Go,  draw  the  same,  I  tell  thee  in  what  form. 

Lod.   I  go.  [Exit 

Count.  Sorr)'  I  am,  to  see  my  liege  so  sad  : 
What  may  thy  subject  flo.  to  drive  from  thcc 
Thy  gloomy  consort,  sullen  melancholy  } 

Edw.  Ah,  lady,  I  am  blunt,  and  cannot  strew 
The  flowers  of  solace  in  a  ground  of  sl^ 
Since  I  came  hither,  countess.  I  am  wi. 

Count.  Now,  God  forbid,  that  any  in  nn  !>  u'^e 
Should  think  my  sovereign  wrong  !     Thricc-gcnllc  kin^ 
Acquaint  me  with  your  cause  of  discontent. 

•.ni.  17.]  Ytl.  4¥»- 


AcilLl  EDWARD  THE  THIRD  iScene I, 

Edw.  How  near  then  shall  I  be  to  remedy  ? 

Count:  As  near,  my  liege,  as  all  my  woman's  power 
Can  pawn  itself  to  buy  thy  remedy. 

Edw.  If  thou  speak'st  true,  then  have  I  m.y  redress : 
Engage  thy  power  to  redeem  my  joys. 
And  I  am  joyful,  countess  ;  else,  I  die. 

Count.  I  will,  my  liege. 

Edw.  Swear,  countess,  that  thou  wilt. 

Count.  By  Heaven,  I  will, 

Edw.  Then 'take  thyself  a  little  way  aside  ; 
And  tell  thyself,  a  king  doth  dote  on  thee: 
Say,  that  within  thy  power  it  doth  lie. 
To  make  him  happy  ;  and  that  thou  hast  sworn. 
To  give  me  all  the  joy  within  thy  power: 
Do  this  ;  and  tell  me,  when  I  shall  be  happy. 

Count.  All  this  is  done,  mxy  thrice-dread  sovereign : 
That  power  of  love,  that  1  have  power  to  give. 
Thou  hast  with  all  devout  obedience ; 
Employ  m.e  how  thou  wilt  in  proof  thereof. 

Edw.  Thou  hear'st  me  say,  that  I  do  dote  on  thee. 

Count.  If  on  my  beauty,  take  it  if  thou  canst ; 
Though  little,  I  do  prize  it  ten  times  less : 
If  on  my  virtue,  take  it  if  thou  canst ; 
For  virtue's  store  by  giving  doth  augment : 
Be  it  on  what  it  will,  that  I  can  give, 
And  thou  canst  take  away,  inherit  it. 

Edw.  It  is  thy  beauty  that  I  would  enjoy. 

Count.  O,  were  it  painted,  I  would  wipe  it  off, 
And  dispossess  myself,  to  give  it  thee. 
But,  sovereign,  it  is  solder'd  to  my  life  ; 
Take  one,  and  both ;  for,  like  an  humble  shadow. 
It  haunts  the  sunshine  of  my  summer's  life. 

Edw.  But  thou  may'st  lend  it  me,  to  sport  withaL 

Count,  As  easy  may  my  intellectual  soul 
Be  lent  away,  and  yet  my  body  live, 
As  lend  my  body,  palace  to  my  soul. 
Away  from  her,  and  yet  retain  my  soul. 
My  body  is  her  bower,  her  court,  her  abbey, 
And  she  an  angel,  pure,  divine,  unspotted  ; 
If  I  should  lend  her  house,  my  lord,  to  thee, 
I  kill  my  poor  soul,  and  my  poor  soul  me. 

Edw,  Didst  thou  not  swear,  to  give  me  what  I  would  f 
VII.  A2C  [s.ni.  t8 


Count.  I  did,  iny  liepe;  so,  what  ycu  would,  I  could. 

Ediv.  I  wish  no  more  of  thee,  than  thou  may'st  grvt : 
Nor  beg  I  do  not,  but  I  rather  buy. 
That  is,  thy  love  ;  and,  for  that  love  of  thint. 
In  rich  exchan^f,  1  tnuler  to  thcc  mine. 

Count.  lUit  that  your  lips  wt-re  sacred.  O  v;  Irid 
You  would  profane  the  holy  name  of  love: 
That  love,  you  offer  me,  you  cannot  j^ivc  ; 
For  CiEsar  owes  that  tribute  to  his  queen  : 
That  love,  you  beg  of  me,  1  cannot  give  ; 
Yov  Sarah  owes  that  duty  to  her  lord. 
He,  that  doih  clip,  or  counterfeit,  your  stamp. 
Shall  die,  my  lord  :  and  will  your  sacied  sell 
Commit  high  treason  against  the  King  of  hcircfl. 
To  stamp  his  image  in  forbidd'^n  metal. 
Forgetting  your  allegiance,  and  your  oath? 
In  violating  marriage'  sacred  law. 
You  break  a  greater  honor  than  yourself : 
To  be  a  king,  is  of  a  younger  house. 
Than  to  be  married  ;  your  progenitor. 
Sole-reigning  Adam  on  the  universe. 
By  God  was  honor'd  for  a  married  man. 
But  not  by  him  anointed  for  a  king. 
It  is  a  penally,  to  brtak  your  statutes,  ^ 

Though  not  enacted  by  your  highness'  hand  : 
How  much  more,  to  infringe  the  holy  act 
Made  by  the  mouth  of  God,  seal'd  with  his  harc? 
I  know,  my  sovereign  —  in  my  husband's  love. 
Who  now  doth  loyal  service  in  his  wars  — 
Doth  but  to  try  the  wife  of  Salisbur>', 
Whether  she  will  hear  a  wanton's  tale,  or  nc ; 
Lest  being  therein  guilty  by  my  stay. 
From  that,  not  from  my  liege,  I  turn  away.  [Exit 

Eihi<.  Whether  is  her  beauty  by  her  word?  dixine  ; 
Or  are  her  words  sweet  chapla'ins'lo  her  beauty  ? 
Like  as  the  wind  doth  beautify  a  sail. 
And  as  a  sail  becomes  the  unsrcn  wind. 
So  do  her  words  her  bcauiv,  beauty  word*. 
O,  that  I  were  a  honey  gathering  bee, 
To  bear  the  comb  of  virtue  from  hi?  f^cwer; 
And  not  a  pcison-.sucking  tin  ii  '.is  spuier, 
Tc  turn  the  vice  I  take  to  dcauly  venom  f 

E.I1.    .W'  Vil.45» 


/Jff//.)  EDWARD  THE  THIRD.  l^ene  i 

Religion  is  austere,  and  beauty  gentle ; 

Too  strict  a  guardian  for  so  fair  a  ward. 

O,  that  she  were,  as  is  the  air,  to  me  ! 

Why,  so  she  is ;  for  when  I  would  embrace  her» 

This  do  I,  and  catch  nothing  but  myself. 

I  must  enjoy  her ;  for  I  cannot  beat. 

With  reason,  and  reproof,  fond  love  away. 

Efiter  Warwick. 

Here  comes  her  father  :  I  will  work  with  him» 
To  bear  my  colors  in  this  held  of  love. 

War,  How  is  it,  that  my  sovereign  is  so  sad  ? 
May  I  with  pardon  know  your  highness'  grief. 
And  that  my  old  endeavor  will  remove  it, 
It  shall  not  cumber  long  your  majesty. 

Edw.  A  kind  and  voluntary  gift  thou  proffer'st. 
That  I  was  forward  to  have  begg'd  of  thee. 
But,  O  thou  world,  great  nurse  of  flattery, 
W^hy  dost  thou  tip  men's  tongues  with  golden  words^ 
And  peise  their  deeds  with  weight  of  heavy  lead, 
That  fair  performance  cannot  follow  promise  ? 
O,  that  a  man  might  hold  the  heart's  close  book ; 
And  choke  the  lavish  tongue,  when  it  doth  utter 
The  breath  of  falsehood  not  character'd  there ! 

War.  Far  be  it  from  the  honor  of  niy  age, 
That  I  should  owe  bright  gold,  and  render  lead! 
Age  is  a  cynic,  not  a  flatterer : 
I  say  again,  that,  if  I  knew  your  grief. 
And  that  by  me  it  may  be  lessened. 
My  proper  harm  should  buy  your  highness*  good. 

Edw.  These  are  the  vulgar  tenders  of  false  men. 
That  never  pay  the  duty  of  their  words. 
Thou  wilt  not  stick  to  swear  what  thou  hast  said  \ 
But,  when  thou  know'st  my  grief's  condition, 
This  rash-disgorged  vomit  of  thy  word 
Thou  wilt  eat  up  again,  and  leave  me  helpless. 

War.  By  Heaven,  I  will  not ;  though  your  majesty 
Did  bid  me  run  upon  your  sword,  and  die. 

Edw.  Say,  that  my  grief  is  no  way  med'cinable. 
But  by  the  loss  and  bruising  of  thine  honor  } 

War,  If  nothing  but  that  loss  may  vantage  you, 
I  would  account  that  loss  my  vantage  too. 

VIIc  A52.  [e.iii.  « 


Ate//.}  MLU'ARD  THE  THIRD.  \S<t%t I. 

Edw.  Think'st,    that    thcu  canst  unswear    thy   ckih 
again  ? 

War.  I  cannot ;  nor  I  would  not.  if  I  could. 

Edw.   But,  if  thou  dosl.  what  shall  I  sav  to  thcc? 

War.  What  may  be  said  to  ajiy  pcrjur  (I  villain 
That  breaks  the  sacred  warrant  of  an  oath. 

Ed7u.  What   wilt    thou   say   to   one   that    breaks    an 
oath  ? 

War.  That  he  hath  broke  his   faith   with   God   and 
man, 
And  from  them  both  stands  excommunicate. 

Edw.  What  office  were  it,  to  suggest  a  man 
To  break  a  lawful  and  religious  vow  ? 

War.  An  office  for  the  devil,  not  for  man. 

Edw.  That  devil's  office  must  thou  do  forme; 
Or  break  thy  oath,  or  cancel  all  the  bonds 
Of  love,  and  duty,  'twixt  thyself  and  me. 
And  therefore,  Warwick,  if  thou  art  thyself. 
The  lord  and  master  of  thy  word  and  oath. 
Go  to  thy  daughter;  and  in  my  behalf, 
Command  her,  woo  her,  win  her  any  ways. 
To  be  my  mistress,  and  my  secret  love. 
I  will  not  stand  to  hear  thee  make  reply ; 
Thy  oath  break  hers,  or  let  thy  sovereign  die.  \Ejcit 

War.  O  doting  king  !     O  detestable  office  1 
Well  may  1  tempt  myself  to  wrong  myself. 
When  he  hath  sworn  me  by  the  name  of  God« 
To  break  a  vow  made  by  the  name  of  God. 
What  if  I  swear  by  this  right  hand  of  mine. 
To  cut  this  right  hand  off  .^  the  better  way 
Were,  to  profane  the  idol,  than  confound  it: 
But  neither  will  I  do;  I'll  keep  my  oath, 
And  to  my  daughter  make  a  recantation 
Of  all  the  virtue  I  have  preach'd  to  her: 
I'll  say,  she  must  forget  her  husband  Salisbury, 
If  she  remember,  to  embrace  the  king  ; 
I'll  say,  an  oath  may  easily  be  broken. 
But  not  so  easily  pardon'd,  being  broken; 
I'll  say,  it  is  true  charity  to  love, 
But  not  true  love  to  be  so  charitable; 
I'll  say,  his  greatness  may  bear  out  the  shai 
But  not  his  kingdom  can  buy  out  the  sin  ; 

B.III.  JX.J  VII.  453. 


Act  11.}  EDWARD  THE  THIRD,  {Scene t. 

I'll  say,  it  is  my  duty  to  persuade, 
Eut  not  her  honesty  to  give  consent. 

E?iter  Countess. 

See,  where  she  comes  :  was  never  father,  had, 
Against  his  child,  an  embassage  so  bad. 

Count.  My  lord  and  father,  I  have  sought  for  you  J 
My  mother  and  the  peers  importune  you, 
To  keep  in  presence  of  his  majesty. 
And  do  your  best  to  make  his  highness  merry. 

War.  How  shall  I  enter  on  this  graceless  errand  ? 
I  must  not  call  her  child  ;  for  where's  the  father 
That  will,  in  such  a  suit,  seduce  his  child  } 
Then,  Wife  of  Salisbury, —  shall  I  so  begin  } 
No,  he's  my  friend  ;  and  where  is  found  the  friend, 
That  will  do  friendship  such  endamagement  ?  — 
Neither  my  daughter,  nor  my  dear  friend's  wife, 
I  am  not  Warwick,  as  thou  think'st  I  am, 
But  an  attorney  from  the  court  of  hell ; 
That  thus  have  hous'd  my  spirit  in  his  form. 
To  do  a  message  to  thee  from  the  king. 
The  mighty  King  of  England  dotes  on  thee  : 
He,  that  hath  power  to  take  away  thy  life. 
Hath  power  to  take  thine  honor  ;  then  consent 
To  pawn  thine  honor,  rather  than  thy  life  : 
Honor  is  often  lost,  and  got  again  ; 
But  life,  once  gone,  hath  no  recovery. 
The  sun,  that  withers  hay,  doth  nourish  grass ; 
The  king,  that  would  distain  thee,  will  advance  thee. 
The  poets  write,  that  great  Achilles'  spear 
Could  heal  the  wound  it  made  :  the  moral  is, 
W^hat  mighty  men  misdo,  they  can  amend. 
The  lion  doth  become  his  bloody  jaws. 
And  grace  his  foragement,  by  being  mild 
When  vassal  fear  lies  trembling  at  his  feet. 
The  king  will  in  his  glory  hide  thy  shame ; 
And  those,  that  gaze  on  him  to  find  out  thee, 
W^ill  lose  their  eyesight,  looking  in  the  sun. 
What  can  one  drop  of  poison  harm  the  sea. 
Whose  hug)^  vastures  can  digest  the  ill. 
And  make  it  lose  his  operation  ? 
The  king's  great  name  will  temper  thy  misdeeds, 

VII.  454-  [b.III.33. 


Aj^LW  KDllARD  THE  THIRD.  [S^tm /. 

And  give  the  bitter  potion  of  reproach 

A  sugar'd-swect  and  most  delicious  taste  : 

Besides,  it  is  no  harm,  to  do  the  thitu' 

Which,  witiioLit  shame,  could  not  be  left  undent 

Thus  have  I,  in  his  majesty's  behalf, 

Apparel'd  sin  in  virtuous  sentences. 

And  dwell  upon  thy  answer  in  his  suit. 

Count.  Unnatural  besiege  !     Woe  me  unhappy. 
To  have  escap'd  the  danger  of  my  foes, 
And  to  be  ten  times  worse  inwir'd  by  friends  I 
Hath  he  no  means  to  slain  my  honest  blood. 
But  to  corrupt  the  author  of  my  blood. 
To  be  his  scandalous  and  vile  solicitor  ? 
No  marvel  then,  though  the  branches  be  inleclcd. 
When  poison  hath  encompassed  the  root: 
No  marvel,  though  the  leprous  infant  die. 
When  the  stern  dam  envenometh  the  dug. 
Why  then,  give  sin  a  passport  to  offend, 
And  youth  the  dangerous  rein  of  liberty  : 
Blot  out  the  strict  forbidding  of  the  law; 
And  cancel  every  canon,  that  prescribes 
A  shame  for  shame,  or  penance  for  offense. 
No,  let  me  die,  if  his  too  boist'rous  will 
W^ill  have  it  so,  before  I  will  consent 
To  be  an  actor  in  his  graceless  lust. 

War,  Why,  now  thou  speak'st  as  I  would  hare  th«t 
speak  : 
And  mark  how  I  unsay  my  words  again. 
An  honorable  grave  is  more  esteem'd. 
Than  the  polluted  closet  of  a  king  : 
The  greater  man.  the  greater  is  the  thing, 
Be  it  good  or  bad,  that  he  shall  undertake: 
An  unreputed  mote,  tlying  in  the  sun. 
Presents  a  greater  substance  than  it  is  : 
The  freshest  summer's  day  doth  soonest  taint 
The  loathed  carrion  that  it  seems  to  kiss  : 
Deep  are  the  blows  made  with  a  niighty  az: 
That  sin  doth  ten  times  aggravate  itscljf, 
That  is  committed  in  a  holy  place: 
An  evil  deed,  done  by  authority. 
Is  sin,  and  subornation  :  deck  an  ape 
In  tissue,  and  the  beauty  of  the  rot)C 
»-m.  2>  )  VII.  455. 


rfrr//.J  £.DIVARD  THE  THIRD.  [Scene  Ih 

Adds  but  the  greater  scorn  unto  the  beast. 
A  spacious  field  of  reasons  could  I  urge, 
Between  his  glory,  daughter,  and  thy  shame : 
That  poison  shows  worst  in  a  golden  cup ; 
Dark  night  seems  darker  by  the  lightning  flash ; 
Lilies,  that  fester,  smell  far  worse  than  weeds ; 
And  every  glory  that  inclines  to  sin. 
The  same  is  treble  by  the  opposite. 
So  leave  I,  with  my  blessing  in  thy  bosom ; 
Which  then  convert  to  a  most  heavy  curse, 
When  thou  convert'st  from  honor's  golden  name 
To  the  black  faction  of  bed-blotting  shame  !  [Exzi:. 

Coimt.   I'll  follow  thee  ;  and,  when  my  mind  turns  so. 
My  body  sink  my  soul  in  endless  woe !  \Exit, 

Scene  II.     The  Same.    A  room  in  the  Castle, 
E7iter  Derby  and  AUBLEY,  nieeting, 

Der.  Thrice-noble  Audler,  well  encounter'd  here : 
How  is  it  with  our  sovereign,  and  his  peers  ? 

And.  'Tis  full  a  fortnight,  since  I  saw  his  highness. 
What  time  he  sent  m.e  forth  to  muster  men  ; 
Which  I  accordingly  have  done,  and  bring  them  hither 
In  fair  array  before  his  majesty. 
What  news,  my  Lord  of  Derby,  from  the  emperor  ? 

Der.  As  good  as  we  desire  :  the  emperor 
Hath  yielded  to  his  highness  friendly  aid ; 
And  makes  our  king  lieutenant-general. 
In  all  his  lands  and  large  dominions  : 
Then  via  for  the  spacious  bounds  of  France ! 

Atid.  What,   doth    his   highness   leap   to   hear    these 
news  ? 

Der.  I  have  not  3'et  found  time  to  open  them  i 
The  king  is  in  his  closet,  m.alcontent, 
For  what,  I  know  not,  but  he  gave  in  charge, 
'Till  after  dinner,  none  should  interrupt  him : 
The  Countess  Salisbury,  and  her  father  Warwick, 
Artois,  and  all,  look  underneath  the  brows. 

And.  Undoubtedly,  then  something  is  amiss. 

[  Trumpet  within^ 

Der.  The  trumpets  sound  ;  the  king  is  now  abroad. 

VII.  456.  [e.iii.  24, 


^ci//.]  EDl^AhD  Ti^IE  THIRD.  {Scr-,,  : 

Enter  EDWARD. 

Aud.  Here  comes  his  hij,'hness. 

Der.  Befall  my  sovcreij^M)  all  my  sovereitn^'s  wish  ! 

Ed-w.  Ah,  iha'i  lliou  wcri  a  witch,  to  make  it  so  ! 

Dt-r.   The  emperor  grertelh  \(^\x  '.     \l'r(Stnting  letters. 

Edw.  'Would  it  were  the  countess  ! 

Der.  And  hath  accorded  to  your  hij^'hncss'  suit. 

Ed7u.  Thou  liest.  she  hath  not  ;  but  I  would,  she  had  I 

And.  All  love,  and  duty,  to  my  lord  the  king  I 

Edw.  Well,  all   but  one  is    none:  —  what    news   with 
you  ? 

And.  I  have,  my  liege,  levied  those  horse  and  fool, 
According  to  your  charge,  and  brought  them  hither. 

Ed'iO.  Then  let   those  foot    trudge    hence   upcn  thoM 
horse, 
According  to  our  discharge,  and  be  gone. — 
Derby,  I'll  look  upon  the  countess'  mind 
Anon. 

Der.  The  countess*  mind,  my  liege  ? 

Edw.  I  mean  the  emperor :  leave  me  alone. 

And.  What's  in  his  mind  ? 

Der.  Let's  leave  him  to  his  humor. 

\  Exeunt  Derby  and  Audlev. 

Edw.  Thus    from    the   heart's  abundance  speaks   the 
tongue  ; 
Countess  for  emperor:  and,  indeed,  why  not? 
She  is  as  imperator  over  me  ; 
And  I  to  her 

Am  as  a  kneeling  vassal,  that  obsenes 
The  pleasure,  or  displeasure,  of  her  eye. — 

Enter  LoDOWicK. 

What  says  the  more  than  Cleopatra's  match 
To  Cassar  now  ? 

Lod.  That  yet,  my  liege,  ere  night 
She  will  resolve  your  majesty.  {Drum  tvitkin, 

Edw.  What   drum    is   this,  that    thunders   forth   this 
march, 
To  start  the  tender  Cujiid  in  my  bosom  ? 
Poor  sheep-skin,  how  it  brawls  with  him  that  bcalcth  it  f 
Go,  break  the  thund'ring  parchment  bottom  out. 

E.iK.as.)  VII.  457. 


Ac/n.}  edwaud  the  third.  13c«h*^ 

^      And  I  will  teach  it  to  conduct  sweet  lines 
Unto  the  bosom  of  a  heavenly  nymph  : 
For  I  will  use  it  as  my  writing-paper ; 
And  so  reduce  him,  from  a  scolding  drum. 
To  be  the  herald,  and  dear  counsel-bearer, 
Betwixt  a  goddess  and  a  mighty  king. 
Go,  bid  the  drummer  learn  to  touch  the  lute, 
Or  hang  him  in  the  braces  of  his  drum  ; 
For  now  we  think  it  an  uncivil  thing, 
To  trouble  heaven  with  such  harsh  resounds : 
Away, —  [Exit  LodGixncK 

The  quarrel,  that  I  have,  requires  no  arms, 
But  these  of  mine  ;  and  these  shall  meet  my  foe 
In  a  deep  march  of  penetrable  groans : 
My  eyes  shall  be  my  arrows  ;  and  my  sighs 
Shall  serve  me  as  the  ventage  of  the  wind, 
To  whirl  away  my  sweet'st  artillery  ; 
Ah  but,  alas,  she  wins  the  sun  of  me, 
For  that  is  she  herself ;  and  thence  it  comes. 
That  poets  term  the  wanton  warrior,  blind ; 
But  love  hath  eyes  as  judgment  to  his  steps, 
'Till  too  much  loved  glory  dazzles  them. — 

Re-etiter  LODOWICK. 

How  now  ? 

Lod.  My  liege,  the  drum,  that  struck  the  lusty  march, 
Stands  with  Prince  Edward,  your  thrice-valiant  son. 

Enter  Prince.  Lodowick  retires  to  the  door. 

Ediu.  I  see  the  boy.  O,  how  his  mother's  face, 
Molded  in  his,  corrects  my  stray 'd  desire, 
And  rates  my  heart,  and  chides  my  thievish  eye; 
Who  being  rich  enough  in  seeing  her, 
Yet  seeks  elsewhere  :  and  basest  theft  is  that. 
Which  cannot  cloke  itself  on  poverty.— 
Now,  boy,  what  news  ? 

Prince.  I  have  assembled,  my  dear  lord  and  father. 
The  choicest  buds  of  all  our  English  blood, 
For  our  affairs  to  France ;  and  here  we  come. 
To  take  direction  from  your  majesty. 

Edw.  Still  do  I  see  in  him  delineate 
His  mother's  visage  ;  those  his  eyes  are  hers, 

VII.  458.  CB.tn.  fl& 


itct/r.]  IDWARD  THE  THIRD.  {Si,n4  tt 

Who,  looking^  wistly  on  me,  make  me  blush  ; 

For  faults  against  themselves  give  evidence: 

Lust  is  a  tire  ;  and  men,  like  lanthorns.  show 

Light  lust  within  themselves,  even  through  themselvet. 

Away,  loose  silks  of  wavering  vanity  ! 

Shall  the  large  limit  of  fair  liritany 

By  me  be  overthrown  ?  and  shall  I  not 

Master  this  little  mansion  of  myself? 

Give  me  an  armor  of  eternal  steel  ; 

I  go  to  conquer  kings  ,  and  shall  I  then 

Subdue  myself,  and  be  my  enemy's  friend? 

It  must  not  be. —  Come,  boy,  forward,  advance! 

Let's  with  our  colors  beat  the  air  of  France. 

Lod.  My  liege,  the  countess,  with  a  smiling  cheer. 
Desires  access  unto  your  majesty. 

\Aih>:iiiii>ig  from  the  door,  and  whisper ing  him, 

Edu>.  Why.  there  it  goes  I  that  very  smile  of  hers 
Hath  ransom 'd  captive  France  ;  and  set  the  king, 
The  Dauphin,  and  the  peers,  at  liberty. — 
Go,  leave  me,  Ned,  and  revel  with  thy  friends. 

[i.r;V  Princi. 
Thy  mother  is  but  black ;  and  thou,  like  her. 
Dost  put  into  my  mind  how  foul  she  is. — 
Go,  fetch  the  countess  hither  in  thy  hand. 
And  let  her  chase  away  those  winter  clouds  ; 
For  she  gives  beauty  both  to  heaven  and  earth. 

( Exit  LodmvicK 
The  sin  is  more,  to  hack  and  hew  poor  men. 
Than  to  embrace,  in  an  unlawful  bed, 
The  register  of  all  varieties 
Smce  leathern  Adam  'till  this  youngest  hour. 

Re-enter  LODOWICK,  with  the  CoUNTESS. 

Go,  Lodowick.  put  thy  hand  into  my  purse. 
Play,  spend,  give,  riot,  waste  ;  do  what  thou  will. 
So  thou  wilt  hence  a  while,  and  leave  me  here. 

{Exit  Lodcwick, 
Now,  my  soul's  playfellow  !  and  art  thou  come. 
To  speak  the  more 'than  heavenly  word,  of  yea. 
To  my  subjection  in  thy  beauteous  love? 

Count.  My  father  on' his  blessing  halh  commanded-* 

Ediu.  That  thou  shall  yield  to  me. 
«.ni.  vi.\  "^^  *^^^ 


AeilLl  BDTVARD  THE  THIRD.  iSeent Ih 

Count.  Ay,  dear  my  liege,  your  due. 

Edw.  And  that,  my  dearest  love,  can  be  no  less 
Than  right  for  right,  and  tender  love  for  love. 

CouTit,  Than  wrong  for  wrong,  and  endless  hate  foJ 
hate. — 
But, —  sith  I  see  your  majesty  so  bent, 
That  my  unwillingness,  my  husband's  love, 
Your  high  estate,  nor  no  respect  respected 
Can  be  my  help,  but  that  your  mightiness 
Will  overbear  and  awe  these  dear  regards,—- 
I  bind  my  discontent  to  my  content. 
And,  what  I  would  not,  I'll  compel  I  will; 
Provided,  that  yourself  remove  those  lets. 
That  stand  between  your  highness'  love  and  mine. 

Ediv.  Name  them,  fair  countess,  and,  by  Heaven,  I 
will. 

Con7it.  It  is  their  lives,  that  stand  between  our  love, 
That  I  would  have  chok'd  up,  my  sovereign. 

Edw.  Whose  lives,  my  lady  } 

Count.  ]My  thrice-loving  liege, 
Your  queen,  and  Salisbury  my  wedded  husband  \ 
Who  living  have  that  title  in  our  love. 
That  we  cannot  bestow  but  by  their  death. 

Edw.  Thy  opposition  is  beyond  our  law. 

Count.  And  so  is  your  desire  :  if  the  law 
Can  hinder  you  to  execute  the  one. 
Let  it  forbid  you  to  attempt  the  other; 
I  cannot  think  you  love  me  as  you  say, 
Unless  you  do  make  good  what  you  have  sworn. 

Ediu.  No  more ;  thy  husband  and  the  queen  shall  die. 
Fairer  thou  art  by  far  than  Hero  was  ; 
Beardless  Leander  not  so  strong  as  I ; 
He  swum  an  easy  current  for  his  love ; 
But  I  will  through  a  helly  spout  of  blood, 
To  arrive  at  Sestos  where  my  Hero  lies. 

Count.  Nay,  you'll  do  more;  you'll  make  the  river  too, 
With  their  heart-bloods  that  keep  our  love  asunder. 
Of  which,  my  husband,  and  your  wife,  are  twain. 

Edw.  Thy  beauty  makes  them  guilty  o^  their  death. 
And  gives  in  evidence,  that  they  shall  die  ; 
Upon  which  verdict,  I,  their  judge,  condemn  them. 

Cojtnt.  O  perjur'd  beauty !  more  corrupted  judge ! 

VII.  i6<^  (e.iii.  3& 


Act//.]  EDir-iRD  TF/2  THf.^D.  Zttn*!'. 

When,  to  the  great  star-chamber  o'-r  our  heads. 

The  universal  sessions  calls  to  count 

This  packinj,^  evil,  we  both  shall  tremble  for  it. 

Ediu.  What  says  mv  fair  love?  is  she  resolute? 

Count,  Rcsolv'd  to  be  dissolv'd  ;  and.  therefore,  this.— 
Keep  but  thy  word,  great  king,  and  I  am  thine. 
Stand  where  thou  dost.  I'll  part  a  little  from  thct. 
And  see  how  I  will  yield  mc  to  thy  hands. 

\^Tu}  nin^  smidcnly  upon  him,  and s/tawin^  tW0 
dagj^ers. 
Here  by  my  side  do  hang  my  wedding  knives  : 
Take  thou  the  one,  and  with  it  kill  thy  cjueen. 
And  learn  by  me  to  hnd  her  where  she  lies ; 
And  witli  this  other  I'll  debi)alch  my  love. 
Which  now  lies  fast  asleep  within  my  heart: 
When  they  are  gone,  then  I'll  consent  to  love. 
Stir  not.  lascivious  king,  to  hinder  me  ; 
My  resolution  is  more  nimbler  far, 
Than  thy  prevention  can  be  in  my  rescue. 
And,  if  thou  stir,  I  strike  :  therefore  stand  still. 
And  hear  the  choice  that  I  will  put  thee  to: 
Either  swear  to  leave  thy  most  unholy  suit. 
And  never  henceforth  to  solicit  me  ; 
Or  else,  by  Heaven,  [knt'i'/ing]  this  sharp-pointed  knife 
Shall   stain    thy   earth   with    that    which    thou    wouldst 

stain, 
My  poor  chaste  blood.     Swear,  Edward,  swear. 
Or  I  will  strike,  and  die,  before  thee  here. 

Ed'co,  Even    by   that   power   1    swear,   that   gives  mc 
now 
The  power-to  be  ashamt^d  of  myself, 
I  never  mean  to  part  my  lips  again 
In  any  word  that  tends  to  such  a  suit. 
Arise,  true  English  lady;  whom  our  isle 
May  better  boast  of.  than  e'er  Roman  might 
Of  her.  whose  ransack'd  treasury  hath  lask'd 
The  vain  endeavor  of  so  many  pens  : 
Arise  ;  and  be  my  fault  thy  honor's  fame. 
Which  after-ages  shall  enrich  thee  with. 
I  am  awaked  from  this  idle  dream  ;  — 
Warwick,  my  son,  Derby,  Artois.  and  Audlcy, 
Brave  warriors  all,  where  are  you  all  this  while? 
•4U.  a^l  VII.  461. 


ActllL^  KDWARD  THE  THIRD,  iSctuei^ 

Enter  Prince  a7td  lords. 

Warwick,  I  make  thee  warden  of  the  north  :  — 

You,  Prince  of  Wales,  and  Audley,  straight  to  sea; 

Scour  to  Newhaven  ;  some,  there  stay  for  me :  — 

Myself,  Artois,  and  Derby,  will  through  Flanders, 

To  greet  our  friends  there,  and  to  crave  their  aid : 

This  night  will  scarce  suffice  me,  to  discover 

My  folly's  siege  against  a  faithful  lover ; 

For,  ere  the  sun  shall  gild  the  eastern  sky. 

We'll  wake  him  with  our  martial  harmony.  [Exeunt* 

ACT  III. 

Scene  I.    Flanders,     The  French  Camp, 

Enter  King  John  of  France;  his  two  Sons,  CHARLES 

Dtike  of  Normandy,  attd  PHILIP ;  Duke  of 

LORRAIN  and  others, 

fohn.  Here,  'till  our  navy,  of  a  thousand  sdl. 
Have  made  a  breakfast  to  our  foe  by  sea. 
Let  us  encamp,  to  wait  their  happy  speed.— 
Lorrain,  what  readiness  is  Edward  in  ? 
How  hast  thou  heard  that  he  provided  is 
Of  martial  furniture  for  this  exploit  ? 

Lor.  To  lay  aside  unnecessary  soothing. 
And  not  to  spend  the  time  in  circumstance, 
'Tis  bruited  for  a  certainty,  my  lord, 
That  he's  exceeding  strongly  fortified  ; 
His  subjects  flock  as  willingly  to  war, 
As  if  unto  a  triumph  they  were  led. 

Char.  England  was  wont  to  harbor  malciontcntlt 
Blood-thirsty  and  seditious  Catilines, 
Spendthrifts,  and  such  as  gape  for  nothing  else 
But  change  and  alteration  of  the  state  ; 
And  is  it  possible,  that  they  are  now 
So  loyal  in  themselves  ? 

Lor.  All  but  the  Scot ;  who  solemnly  protests. 
As  heretofore  I  have  inform 'd  his  grace. 
Never  to  sheathe  his  sword,  or  take  a  truce. 

fohn.  Ah,  that's  the  anchorage  of  some  better  hope) 
But,  on  the  other  side,  to  think  what  friends 
King  Edward  hath  retain'd  in  Netherland, 

VIX.  463. 


AeiJJT.I  BDll'ARD  THE  THIRD.  Uir« /. 

Among  those  ever-bibbing  epicures. 

Those  frothy  Uutcliincn,  puff  cl  with  double  beer. 

That  drink  and  swill  in  every  place  they  come. 

Doth  not  a  little  aggravate  mine  ire  : 

Besides,  we  hear,  the  emperor  conjoins. 

And  stalls  him  in  his  own  authority  : 

But,  all  the  mightier  that  ihcir  number  is. 

The  greater  glory  reai)s  the  victor)'. 

Some  friends  have  we,  beside  domestic  power  s 

The  stern  Polonian,  and  the  warlike  Dane, 

The  King  of  Bohemia,  and  of  Sicily, 

Are  all  become  confederates  with  us. 

And,  as  I  think,  are  marching  hither  apace. 

[Vrum  wit /an. 
But,  soft,  I  hear  the  music  of  their  drums, 
By  which  I  guess  that  their  approach  is  near. 

Enter  Bohemia,  and  forces;  and  aid  of  Danes,  Poles, 

and  Muscoz'ites. 

Boh.  King  John  of  France,  as  league,  and  neighbor- 
hood 
Requires,  when  friends  are  any  way  distress'd, 
1  come  to  aid  thee  with  my  country's  force. 

Pole.  And  from  great  ^loscow.  learful  to  the  Turik 
And  lofty  Poland,  nursu  «f  hardy  men, 
I  bring  these  servitors  to  fight  for  thee. 
Who  willingly  will  ventu'-e  in  thy  cause. 

John.  Welcome,  Bohemian  king;  and  welcome,  all: 
This  your  great  kindness  I  will  not  forget; 
Beside  your  plentiful  rewards  in  crowns. 
That  from  our  treasur)'  ye  shall  receive  \ 
There  comes  a  hair-brain'd  nation,  deck'd  in  pridc; 
The  spoil  of  whom  will  be  a  treble  game. — 
And  now  my  hope  is  full,  my  joy  complete : 
At  sea,  we  are  as  puissant  as  the  force 
Of  Agamemnon  in  the  haven  of  Trov; 
By  land,  with  Xerxes  we  compare  of  strength. 
Whose  soldiers  drank  up  rivers  in  their  ihint: 
Then,  Bayard-like,  blind  over-we«ning  Ned, 
To  reach  at  our  imperial  diadem. 
Is,  either  to  be  swallow'd  of  the  waves, 
Or  hack'd  a-pieces  w  hen  thou  com'»t  ashoft. 
«.ni.  31.)  VII.  ♦6.V 


AetriL]  SDWARD  THE  THIRD,  iScentL 

Enter  a  Mariner^ 

Mar,  Near  to  the  coast  I  have  descried,  my  lord* 
As  I  was  busy  in  my  watchful  charge. 
The  proud  armado  of  King  Edward's  ships : 
Which,  at  the  first,  far  off  when  I  did  ken, 
Seem'd  as  it  were  a  grove  of  wither'd  pines  ; 
But,  drawing  near,  their  glorious  bright  aspect. 
Their  streaming  ensigns  wrought  of  color'd  silk. 
Like  to  a  meadow  full  of  sundr}-  ilowers, 
Adorns  the  naked  bosom  of  the  earth  ; 
Majestical  the  order  of  their  course. 
Figuring  the  horned  circle  of  the  moon  : 
On  the  top-gallant  of  the  admiral. 
And  likewise  all  the  handmaids  of  his  train. 
The  arms  of  England  and  of  France  united 
Are  quarter'd  equally  by  herald's  art. 
Thus,  tightly  carried  with  a  merry  gale. 
They  plow  the  ocean  hitherward  amain. 

John.  Dare  he  already  crop  the  flower-de-luce? 
I  hope,  the  honey  being  gather'd  thence, 
He,  with  the  spider,  afterward  approach'd, 
Shall  suck  forth  deadly  venom  from  the  leaves. — 
But  where 's  our  navy  ?  how  are  they  prepar'd 
To  wing  themselves  against  this  flight  of  ravens  ? 

Mar,  They,  having  knowledge  brought  them  by  the 
scouts, 
Did  break  from  anchor  straight;  and,  puff'd  with  rage, 
No  otherwise  than  were  their  sails  with  wind, 
Made  forth  ;  as  when  the  empty  eagle  flies, 
To  satisfy  his  hungry  griping  maw. 

John.  There's  for  thy  news.     Return  unto  thy  bark  ; 
And,  if  thou  scape  the  bloody  stroke  of  war. 
And  do  survive  the  conflict,  come  again, 
And  let  us  hear  the  manner  of  the  fight. — 

{Exit  Mariner, 
Mean  space,  my  lords,  'tis  best  we  be  dispers'd 
To  several  places,  lest  they  chance  to  land  : 
First,  you,  my  lord,  with  your  Bohemian  troops. 
Shall  pitch  your  battles  on  the  lower  hand ;  ' 

My  eldest  son,  the  Duke  of  Normandy, 
Together  with  this  aid  of  ]\Iuscovites, 

VII.  464.  lB.ni.  3t* 


Art  III.}  XJJWARD  THE  THIRD,  \Jic,m4  t. 

Shall  climb  the  higher  ground  another  way ; 
Here  in  the  middle  coast,  bctwixl  vou  both, 
Philip,  my  youngest  boy,  and  1  will  lodge. 
So,  lords,  be  gone,  and  look  unto  vour  charge; 
You  stand  for  France,  an  empire  fair  and  large.— 

\Excu)it  Charles,  Lor  rain,  Bohemia,  and  For€€U 
Now  tell  me,  Philiji,  what  is  thy  concrii, 
Touching  the  challenge  that  the  Knglish  make  } 

Phi.  1  say.  my  lord,  claim  Edward  what  he  can. 
And  bring  he  ne'er  so  plain  a  pedigree, 
'Tis  you  are  in  possession  of  the  crown, 
And  that's  the  surest  point  of  all  the  law  : 
But,  were  it  not ;  yet,  ere  he  should  prevail, 
I'll  make  a  conduit  of  my  dearest  blood. 
Or  chase  those  straggling  upstarts  home  again. 

fohn.  Well   said,  young  Philip !    Call  for  bread  and 
wine, 
That  we  may  cheei  our  stomachs  with  repast. 
To  look  our  foes  more  sternly  in  the  face. 

\A  tabic  and  pro7'isions  broui^ht  in  ;  King  mmJ 
his  Son  sit  do7cn  to  it.     Ordnance  ajar  ^, 
Now  is  begun  the  heavy  day  at  sea. 
Fight,  Frenchmen,  fight ;  be  like  the  field  of  bears. 
When  they  defend  their  younglings  in  their  caves  I 
Steer,  angry  Nemesis,  the  hajipy  helm  ; 
That,  with  the  sulphur  battles  of  your  rage. 
The  English  fleet  may  be  dispers'd.  and  sunk! 

[Ordnanci  again* 

Phi.  O,  father,  how  this  echoing  cannon-shot. 
Like  sweetest  harmony,  digests  my  catcs ! 

John.  Now,  boy,  thou  hear'st  what  thund'ring  temt 
'tis. 
To  buckle  for  a  kingdom's  sovereignty  : 
The  earth,  with  giddy  trembling  when  it  shakes. 
Or  when  the  exhalations  of  the  air 
Break  in  extremity  of  lightning  flash. 
Affrights  not  more,  than  kings,  when  they  dispote 
To  show  the  rancor  of  their  high-swoln  hc.irti, 

( Retr$mt  hmnL 

Retreat  is  sounded  :  one  side  hath  the  worse  : 
O,  if  it  be  the  French  I—  Sweet  Fortune,  turn  : 
And.  in  thy  turning,  change  the  froward  windi* 

E...I.3>)  ^"-^ 


Aft///.}  EDIVARD  THE  THIRD.  \Sctm  I 

That,  with  advantage  of  a  favoring  sky. 
Our  men  may  vanquish,  and  the  other  flyf 

Enter  Marmer, 

My  heart  misgives:  —  say,  mirror  of  pale  death* 
To  whom  belongs  the  honor  of  this  day  ? 
Relate,  I  pray  thee,  if  thy  breath  will  serve. 
The  sad  discourse  of  this  discomfiture. 

Mar.  I  will,  my  lord. 
My  gracious  sovereign,  France  hath  ta'en  the  foO* 
And  boasting  Edward  triumphs  with  success. 
These  iron-hearted  navies. 
When  last  I  was  reporter  to  your  grace. 
Both  full  of  angry  spleen,  of  hope,  and  fear. 
Hasting  to  meet  each  other  in  the  face. 
At  last  conjoin'd  ;  and  by  their  admiral 
Our  admiral  encounter'd  many  shot : 
By  this,  the  other,  that  beheld  these  twain 
Give  earnest  penny  of  a  further  wrack, 
Like  fiery  dragons  took  their  haughty  flight ; 
And,  likewise  meeting,  from  their  smoky  wombi 
Sent  many  grim  ambassadors  of  death. 
Then  'gan  the  day  to  turn  to  gloomy  night ; 
And  darkness  did  as  well  inclose  the  quick, 
As  those  that  were  but  newly  reft  of  life : 
No  leisure  serv'd  for  friends  to  bid  farewell ; 
And,  if  it  had,  the  hideous  noise  was  such. 
As  each  to  other  seemed  deaf,  and  dumb  : 
Purple  the  sea  ;  whose  channel  fill'd  as  fast 
With  streaming  gore,  that  from  the  maimed  fell. 
As  did  her  gushing  moisture  break  into 
The  crannied  cleftures  of  the  through-shot  planks; 
Here  flew  a  head,  dissever'd  from  the  trunk ; 
There  mangled  arms,  and  legs,  were  toss'd  aloft ; 
As  when  a  whirlwind  takes  the  summer  dust» 
And  scatters  it  in  middle  of  the  air  : 
Then  might  ye  see  the  reeling  vessels  split, 
And  tottering  sink  into  the  ruthless  flood. 
Until  their  lofty  tops  were  seen  no  more. 
All  shifts  were  tried,  both  for  defense  and  htlft : 
And  now  the  effect  of  valor,  and  of  fear. 
Of  resolution,  and  of  cowardice, 

VIL  466^  [E.iii.  34. 


Acfm,\  MXii^^Rn  THF  THIJIIX.  [^en*  tr. 

We  lively  pictur'd  ;  how  the  one  for  famflb 

The  other  by  compulsion  laid  about . 
Much  did  the  Noni)ar<.iIlf.  thai  brave  ship; 
So  did  the  black-snake  of  BouIo^mu-,  tlum  which 
A  bonnier  vessel  never  yet  spread  sail  : 
But  all  in  vain  ;  both  sun,  the  wind  and  tide. 
Revolted  all  unto  our  foenien's  side, 
That  we  perforce  were  fain  to  give  them  way. 
And  they  are  landed  :  thus  my  talc  is  done ; 
We  have  untimely  lost,  and  they  have  won. 
John.  Then    rests   there   nothing,   hut,   with    preient 
speed. 
To  join  our  several  forces  all  intone. 
And  bid  them  battle,  ere  they  ranj^'e  too  far. — 
Come,  gentle  Philij),  let  us  hence  depart  ; 
This  soldier's  words  have  pierc'd  thy  father's  heart. 

Scene  II.     Picardy.    Fields  mar  Cressi. 

Enter  a  Frenchman,  vieetim^  certain  others,  a    Woman 

and  two  Children,  laden  ivith  household  stujf,  as 

removini^. 

First  P.  Well  met,  my  masters  :  how  now  ?  whal's  tht 
news  ? 
And  wherefore  are  you  laden  thus  with  stuff  ? 
What,  is  it  quarter-day,  that  you  remove. 
And  carry  bag  and  baggage  too  ? 

Sec.F.  Quarter-day?  ay.  and  quartering  day.  I  itU'. 
Have  you  not  heard  the  news  that  flies  abroaa  ? 

First  F.  What  news  ? 

Third  F.  How  the  French  navy  i%  destroyed  at  tea. 
And  that  the  English  army  is  arn'v'd. 

First  F.  What  then  ? 

Sec,  F.  What  then,  quoth  you  ?  why.  is't  not  lime  tot*y. 
When  enemy  and  destruction  is  so  nigh  ? 

First  F.  Content  thee,  man  ;  they  are  far  enough  I 
hence ; 
And  will  be  met,  I  warrant  you.  to  their  cost. 
Before  they  break  so  far  into  the  realm. 

Sec.  F.  Ay.  so  the  grasshopi>cr  doth  spend  tM  tlM 
In  mirthful  jollity,  'till  winter  come; 
And  then  too  late  he  would  redeem  his  ttec. 


Art/If,']  EDWARD  THE  THIRD.  iSctnetl 

When  frozen  cold  hath  nipp'd  his  careless  head* 
He,  that  no  sooner  will  provide  a  cloak, 
Than  when  he  sees  it  doth  begin  to  rain, 
May,  peradventure,  for  his  negligence, 
Be  throughly  wash'd  when  he  suspects  it  not* 
We,  that  have  charge,  and  such  a  train  as  this. 
Must  look  in  time  to  look  for  them  and  us. 
Lest,  when  we  would,  we  cannot  be  reliev'd. 

First  F,  Belike,  you  then  despair  of  all  success, 
And  think  your  country  will  be  subjugate. 

Third  F.  We  cannot  tell ;  'tis  good,  to  fear  the  worst 

First  F.  Yet  rather  fight,  than,  like  unnatural  sons, 
Forsake  your  loving  parents  in  distress. 

Sec.  F.  Tush,  they,  that  have  already  taken  arms, 
Are  many  fearful  millions,  in  respect 
Of  that  small  handful  of  our  enemies  : 
But  'tis  a  rightful  quarrel  must  prevail » 
Edward  is  son  unto  our  late  king's  sister, 
Where  John  Valois  is  three  degrees  remov'd. 

Worn.  Besides,  there  goes  a  prophecy  abroad, 
Publish'd  by  one  that  was  a  friar  once. 
Whose  oracles  have  many  times  prov'd  true ; 
And  now  he  says,  "  The  time  will  shortly  come, 
When  as  a  lion,  roused  in  the  west. 
Shall  carry  hence  the  flower-de-luce  of  France:  ** 
These,  I  can  tell  ye,  and  such-like  surmises 
Strike  many  Frenchmen  cold  unto  the  heart. 

Eftter  another  Fretichman^  hastily. 

Fourth  F,  Fly,  countrymen,  and  citizens  of  France! 
Sweet-flow 'ring  peace,  the  root  of  happy  life. 
Is  quite  abandon'd  and  expuls'd  the  land  : 
Instead  of  whom,  ransack-constraining  war 
Sits  raven-like  upon  your  houses'  tops ; 
Slaughter  and  mischief  walk  within  your  streets. 
And  unrestrain'd,  make  havoc  as  they  pass  : 
The  form  whereof  even  now  myself  beheld. 
Now,  upon  this  fair  mountain,  whence  I  came* 
For  so  far  off  as  I  direct  mine  eyes, 
I  might  perceive  five  cities  all  on  fire, 
Corn-fields,  and  vineyards,  burning  like  an  OVeB  \ 
And,  as  the  reeking  vapor  in  the  wind 

VII   «68.  [B.fil*  36^ 


AciIII.\  EDWARD  THE  THIMD.  iit»^  J/l 

Turn'd  but  asule.  1  likewise  mieht  discern 

The  poor  iniiabitanls,  escap'd  ihc  flame. 

P\all  numberless  upon  tlu*  sol(li<rs'  pikes: 

Tiiree  ways  these  dreadful  ministers  of  unith 

Do  tread  the  measures  of  their  Ira^'ic  march  ; 

Upon  the  right  hand  comes  the  conquering  king. 

Upon  the  left  his  hot  unl)ridlcd  son. 

And  in  the  midst  our  nation's  glittering  host ; 

All  which,  though  distant,  yet  conspire  in  one 

To  leave  a  desolation  where  they  come. 

Fly,  therefore,  citizens,  if  you  be  wise, 

Seek  out  some  habitation  further  off: 

Here  if  you  stay,  your  wives  will  be  abus'd. 

Your  treasure  shar'd  before  your  weeping  e)'e»; 

Shelter  yourselves,  for  now  the  stomi  doth  rise; 

Away,  away!  meihinks,  I  hear  their  drums:  — 

Ah,  wretched  France,  1  greatly  fear  thy  fall; 

Thy  glory  shaketh  like  a  tottering  wall.  [Exntmt. 

Scene  III.      The  same. 

Drums,     Enter  Kins^  Edward,  viar chine::   Derby. 
&■*€.,  and  Forces,  <7//^/CiOmN  DK  (.RfcY. 

Ed'U}.  Where  is  the   Frenchman,   by   uliosc  cunning 
guidance 
We  found  the  shallow  of  this  river  Somme, 
And  had  direction  how  to  pabs  the  sea? 

Gob.  Here,  my  good  lord. 

Edw.   How  art  thou  call'd  }  thy  name.^ 

Gob.  Gobin  de  C.rey,  if  |)lease  your  excellence. 

Edw.  Then,  (lobin,  for  the  service  thou  hast  done. 
We  here  enlarge  and  give  thee  liberty  : 
And,  for  a  recompense,  besitle  this  good. 
Thou  shalt  receive  tive  hundred  marks  in  gold.— 
I  know  not  how,  we  should  have  met  our  son  ; 
Whom  now  in  heart  I  wish  1  might  behold. 

Enter  .Artois. 

Art.  Good  news,  my  lord  ;  the  prince  is  hard  at  l)«od. 
And  with  him  comes  Lord  Audley,  and  the  re«C 
Whom  since  our  landing  we  could  never  meet. 

E.111.37I  \\\.^ 


Ac/ I/I.')  EDWARD  THE  THIRD.  {Scene rit» 

Drums,   Enter  Prince,  Audley,  and  Forces, 

Edw,  Welcome,  fair  prince !    How  hast  thou  sped,  my 
son. 
Since  thy  arrival  on  the  coast  of  France  ? 

Prince.   Successfully,  I  thank  the  gracious  heavttlS: 
Some  of  their  strongest  cities  we  have  won. 
As  Harfleur,  Lo,  Crotage,  and  Carentan ; 
And  others  wasted  ;  leaving  at  our  heels 
A  wide  apparent  field,  and  beaten  path. 
For  solitariness  to  progress  in  : 
Yet,  those  that  would  submit,  we  kindly  pardon'd ; 
But  who  in  scorn  refus'd  our  proffer'd  peace, 
Endur'd  the  penalty  of  sharp  revenge. 

Edw,  Ah,  France,  why  shouldst  thou  be  thus  0bsti« 
nate 
Against  the  kind  embracement  of  thy  friends  ? 
How  gently  had  we  thought  to  touch  thy  breast. 
And  set  our  foot  upon  thy  tender  mold. 
But  that,  in  froward  and  disdainful  pride. 
Thou,  like  a  skittish  and  untamed  colt. 
Dost  start  aside,  and  strike  us  with  thy  heels?  — 
But  tell  me,  Ned,  in  all  thy  warlike  course 
Hast  thou  not  seen  the  usurping  King  of  France  ? 

Prince.  Yes,  my  good  lord,  and  not  two  hours  agOb 
With  full  an  hundred  thousand  fighting  men, 
Upon  the  one  side  o'  the  river's  bank, 
I  on  the  other ;  with  his  multitudes 
I  fear'd  he  would  have  cropp'd  our  smaller  power: 
But,  happily,  perceiving  your  approach. 
He  hath  withdrawn  himself  to  Cressi  plains ; 
Where,  as  it  seemeth  by  his  good  array. 
He  means  to  bid  us  battle  presently. 

Ediu.  He  shall  be  welcome,  that's  the  thing  we  crave. 

Drums.     Enter  King  John;    Charles  and  Philip, 
his  Sons;  Bohemia,  Lorrain,  &^c.^  and  Forces, 

John,  Edward,   know,   that  John,  the  true  King   of 
France, — 
Musing  thou  shouldst  encroach  upon  his  land. 
And,  in  thy  tyrannous  proceeding,  slay 
His  faithful  subjects,  and  subvert  his  towns, — 

VII.  470»  [B.nt.  Hk 


Action  KDWARP.   THF  TH'.K'J.  1^#«W//. 

Spits  in  thy  face ;  and  in  this  manner  following 

Upbraids  ihec  with  lliiiie  arrogant  inlru&ioru 

First,  I  condemn  thee  for  a  fugitive, 

A  thievish  pirate,  and  a  needy  mate  ; 

One,  that  hath  either  no  abiding  place. 

Or  else,  inhabiting  some  barren  soil, 

Where  neither  herb  nor  fruitful  grain  is  had. 

Dost  altogether  live  by  pilfering  : 

Ntxt, —  insomuch  thou  hast  infring'd  thy  faith. 

Broke  league  and  solenm  covenant  made  with  mc,— 

I  iiold  thee  for  a  false  pernicious  wretch  : 

And  last  of  all, —  although  1  scorn  to  cope 

With  one  such  an  inferior  to  myself; 

Yet,  in  respect  thy  thirst  is  all  for  gold. 

Thy  labor  rather  to  be  fear'd  than  lov'd, — 

To  satisfy  thy  lust  in  either  part, 

Here  am  I  come  ;  and  with  me  1  have  brought 

Exceeding  store  of  treasure,  pearl,  and  coin. 

Leave  therefore  now  to  persecute  the  weak  ; 

And,  armed  ent'ring  conflict  with  the  arm'd. 

Let  it  be  seen,  'mongst  other  petty  thefts, 

How  thou  canst  win  this  pillage  manfully. 

Eiku.  If  gall,  or  wormwood,  have  a  pleasant  Usie. 
Then  is  thy  saloiation  honey-sweet  : 
But  as  the  one  hath  no  such  jiroperly, 
So  is  the  other  most  satirical. 
Yet  wot  how  I  regard  thy  worthless  taunts ;  — 
If  thou  have  utter'd  them  to  soil  my  fame. 
Or  dim  the  reputation  of  my  birth. 
Know,  that  thy  wolfish  barking  cannot  hurt: 
If  slyl>  to  insinuate  with  the  world, 
And  with  a  strumpet's  arlilicial  line 
To  paint  thy  vicious  and  deformed  cause. 
Be  well  assur'd,  the  counterfeit  will  fade. 
And  in  the  end  thy  foul  defects  be  seen  : 
But  if  thou  didst  it  to  provoke  me  on, — 
As  who  should  say,  I  were  but  timorous. 
Or,  coldly  negligent,  did  need  a  spur, — 
Bethink  thyself,  how  slack  I  was  at  sea; 
How,  sine*:  my  landing,  I  have  won  no  tC 
Enter'd  no  further  but  upon  the  coast. 
And  there  have  ever  since  securely  slept, 
e.ni.  ».l  VIL  an- 


Aam.)  EDWARD  THE  TmRD.  IJSceru  Hi. 

But  if  I  have  been  othenvise  employed. 
Imagine,  Valois,  whether  I  intend 
To  skirmish,  not  for  pillage,  but  for  the  crown 
U^hich  thou  dost  wear  ;  and  that  I  vow  to  have. 
Or  one  of  us  shall  fall  into  his  grave. 

Prince.  Look  not  for  cross  invectives  at  our  hands, 
Or  railing  execrations  of  despite  : 
Let  creeping  serpents,  hid  in  hollow  banks, 
Sting  with  their  tongues  ;  we  have  remorseless  swords. 
And  they  shall  plead  for  us,  and  our  affairs. 
Yet  thus  much,  brietly,  by  my  father's  leave  : 
As  all  the  immodest  poison  of  thy  throat 
Is  scandalous  and  most  notorious  lies, 
And  our  pretended  quarrel  truly  just. 
So  end  the  battle  when  we  meet  to-day  ; 
j\Lay  either  of  us  prosper  and  prevail. 
Or,  luckless  curst,  receive  eternal  shame  ! 

Eihu.  That  needs  no  further  question  ;  and,  I  know» 
His  conscience  witnesseth,  it  is  my  right. — 
Therefore,  Valois,  say,  wilt  thou  yet  resign. 
Before  the  sickle's  thrust  into  the  corn, 
Or  that  enkindled  fury  turn  to  flame  } 

John.  Edward,  I  know  what  right  thou  hast  in  France, 
And  ere  I  basely  will  resign  my  crown. 
This  champion  field  shall  be  a  pool  of  blood, 
And  all  our  prospect  as  a  slaughter-house. 

Prince.  Ay,  that  approves  thee,  tyrant,  what  thou  art : 
No  father,  king,  or  shepherd  of  thy  realm ; 
But  one,  that  tears  her  entrails  with  thy  hands, 
And,  like  a  thirsty  tiger,  suck'st  her  blood. 

And.  You  peers  of  France,  why  do  you  follow  him 
That  is  so  prodigal  to  spend  your  lives'? 

Char.  Whom  should  they  follow,  aged  impotent. 
But  he  that  is  their  true-born  sovereign  ? 

Ed-u.  Upbraid 'st  thou  him,  because  within  his  face 
Time  hath  engrav'd  deep  characters  of  age.^ 
Know,  these  grave  scholars  of  experience. 
Like  stiff-grown  oaks,  will  stand  immovable, 
When  whirlwinds  quickly  turn  up  younger  trees. 

Der.  Was  ever  any  of  thy  father's  house 
King,  but  thyself,  before  this  present  time  ? 
Edward's  great  lineage,  by  the  mother's  side, 

VII.  472.  (E.111.  40k 


^rf///.]  EDWARD  THE  THIRD.  ^Sc€U4  lit. 

Five  hundred  years  hath  held  the  scepter  up  :  — 

Judge  then,  conspirators,  by  this  descent, 
Which  is  the  true-born  sovcreij^n,  this,  or  that. 

Phi.  Good  father,  range  your  battles,  prate  no  more; 
These  EngHsh  fain  would  spend  the  time  in  words, 
That,  night  approaching,  they  might  scape  unfought. 

loh7t.  Lords,  and  my  loving  subjects,  now 's  the  lime. 
That  your  intended  force  must  bide  the  touch  : 
Therefore,  my  friends,  consider  this  in  brief, — 
He,  that  you  tight  for,  is  your  natural  king; 
He,  against  whom  you  fight,  a  foreigner; 
He,  that  you  fight  for,  rules  in  clemency, 
And  reins  you  with  a  mild  and  gentle  bit ; 
He,  against  whom  you  fight,  if  he  prevail. 
Will  straight  enthrone  himself  in  tyranny. 
Make  slaves  of  you,  and,  with  a  hea\-y  hand. 
Curtail  and  curb  your  sweetest  liberty. 
Then,  to  protect  your  countr)-,  and  your  king. 
Let  but  the  haughty  courage  of  your  hearts 
Answer  the  number  of  your  able  hands, 
And  we  shall  quickly  chase  these  fugitives. 
For  what's  this  Edward,  but  a  belly-god, 
A  tender  and  lascivious  wantonness. 
That  t'other  day  was  almost  dead  for  love? 
And  what,  I  pray  you,  is  his  goodly  guard  ? 
Such  as,  but  scant  them  of  their  chines  of  beef. 
And  take  away  their  downy  feather-beds. 
And,  presently,  they  are  as  resty-stiff 
As  'twere  a  many  over-ridden  jades. 

Then,  Frenchmen,  scorn  that  such  should  be  your  lords, 
And  rather  bind  ye  them  in  cai)live  bands. 

French.  Vive  le  roi !  Ciod  save  King  John  of  France! 

John.  Now  on  this  plain  of  Cressi  spread  yourselves, — 
And,  Edward,  when  thou  dar'st,  begin  the  fight. 

{Exeunt  Kiiii^  John,  Charlt-s,  Phtlip^  Lorrain^ 
Bohemia,  and  Forces. 

Edw.  We  presently  will  meet  thee,  John  of  France  :  — 
And,  English  lords,  let  us  resolve  the  day 
Either  to  clear  us  of  that  scandalous  crime. 
Or  be  entombed  in  our  innocence, — 
And,  Ned,  because  this  l)attle  is  the  first 
That  ever  yet  thou  fought'st  in  pitchW  ncid, 

S.ni.41.]  VII.  473 


Acii/L'i  EDWARD  THE  THIRD.  \fic99*  ilL 

As  ancient  custom  is  of  martialists, 

To  dub  thee  with  the  type  of  chivalry. 

In  solemn  manner  we  will  give  thee  arms  :  — 

Come,  therefore,  heralds,  orderly  bring  forth 

A  strong  attirement  for  the  prince  my  son. — 

Flourish.     Enter  four  Heralds,  bringing  a  coat-armov^ 

a  helmet y  a  lajice,  and  a  shield:  first  Herald  de* 

livers  the  armor  to  King  Edward  ;  who 

puts  it  on  his  Son, 

Edward  Plantagenet,  in  the  name  of  God, 

As  with  this  armor  I  impall  thy  breast. 

So  be  thy  noble  unrelenting  heart 

Wall'd  in  with  flint  of  matchless  fortitude, 

That  never  base  affections  enter  there  ; 

Fight  and  be  valiant,  conquer  where  thou  com'st  t  — 

Now  follow,  lords,  and  do  him  honor  too. 

Der.       {Receiving  the  helmet  from  the  second  Heralds 
Edward  Plantagenet,  Prince  of  Wales, 
As  I  do  set  this  helmet  on  thy  head, 
Wherewith  the  chamber  of  thy  brain  is  fenc'd. 
So  may  thy  temples,  with  Bellona's  hand, 
Be  still  adorn'd  with  laurel  victoiy  ; 
Fight  and  be  valiant,  conquer  where  thou  com'st ! 

Aud.         {Receiving  the  lance  from  the  third  HernlcL 
Edward  Plantagenet,  Prince  of  Wales, 
Receive  this  lance,  into  thy  manlike  hand  ; 
Use  it  in  fashion  of  a  brazen  pen. 
To  draw  forth  bloody  stratagems  m  France, 
And  print  thy  valiant  deeds  in  honor's  book  , 
Fight  and  be  valiant,  conquer  where  thou  com'st ! 

Art,      {Receivi?ig  the  shield  fro)n  the  fourth  Heralds 
Edward  Plantagenet,  Prince  of  Wales, 
Hold,  take  this  target,  wear  it  on  thy  arm  ; 
And  may  the  view  thereof,  like  Perseus'  shield. 
Astonish  and  transform  thy  gazing  foes 
To  senseless  images  of  meager  death  ; 
Fight  and  be  valiant,  conquer  where  thou  com'st ! 

Edw.  Now  wants  there  naught  but  knighthood ;  which, 
deferr'd, 
We  leave,  till  thou  hast  won  it  in  the  field. 

Prince,  My  gracious  father,  and  ys  forward  peers. 


A<illl.'\  EDl^ARD  TI/K  THIRD.  [J^/n*/*'. 

This  honor,  you  have  done  me,  animates 

And  cheers  my  ^Teen  yet-scarce-aj)j)earing  strength 

With  comfortable  good-j)resagin}^  signs  ; 

No  otherwise  than  did  old  Jacob's  words. 

When  as  he  breath'd  his  bUssings  on  his  sons  : 

These  hallow'd  gifts  of  yours  when  1  profane. 

Or  use  them  not  to  glory  of  my  (iod, 

To  patronage  the  fatherless,  and  poor, 

Or  for  the  benefit  of  England's  peace. 

Be  numl)  mv  joints  !  wax  feeble  both  mine  arms  I 

Wither  my  heart  !  that,  like  a  sapless  tree, 

I  may  remam  the  map  of  infamy. 

luhi'.  Then  thus  our  steelt^d  battles  shall  berang'4  ;  — 
The  leading  of  the  vaward,  y.ci\,  is  thine  ; 
To  dignify  whose  lusty  spirit  the  more. 
We  temper  it  with  Audley's  gravity  ; 
That,  courage  and  experience  join'd  in  one. 
Your  manage  may  be  second  unto  none  : 
For  the  main  battles,  I  will  guide  myself; 
And,  Derby,  in  the  rearward  march  behind. 
That  orderly  dispos'd,  and  set  in  'ray. 
Let  us  to  horse  ;  and  God  grant  us  the  day  ! 

Scene  IV.     T/ie  Sauu. 

Alarums,  as  of  a  battle  joined.     Enter  a  many  Fnm,  • 

tn£n,  flying  ;    Prince,  and  Kn^lish,  pursuing ; 

and  txeunt :  then  enter  King  Jo  UN  and 

LOKK.-MN. 

John,  O  Lorrain,  say,  what  mean  our  men  to  fly? 
Our  number  is  far  greater  than  our  foes. 

Lor,  The  garrison  of  Genoeses.  my  lord. 
That  came  from  Paris,  wear)'  with  their  march. 
Grudging  to  be  so  suddenly  employ 'd. 
No  sooner  in  the  fore-front  took  their  place. 
But,  straight  retiring,  sodismay'd  the  rest. 
As  likew  ise  they  betook  themselves  to  flight ; 
In  which,  for  haste  to  make  a  safe  escape. 
More  in  the  clust'ring  throng  arc  press'd  to  deatK 
Than  by  the  enemy,  a  thousand-fold. 

[ohn.  O  hapless' fortune  !     Let  us  yet  assay 
If'we  can  counsel  some  of  them  to  stay.  {Exi 

8.III.43-)  VH.  47*. 


Art  in. ^  SDWARD  TriE  THIRD,  lSc«iu> 

Scene  V.     The  Same. 

Drums.    Enter  King  Edward  and  AUDLEY. 

Edw.  Lord  Audley,  whiles  our  son  is  in  the  cha«c, 
\Vithdraw  your  powers  unto  this  little  hill. 
And  here  a  season  let  us  breathe  ourselves. 
And,  I  will,  my  lord.  \Exii.     Retreat 

Ed'u.  Just-dooming  Heaven,  whose  secret  providence 
To  our  gross  judgment  is  unscrutable, 
How  are  we  bound  to  praise  thy  wondrous  works. 
That  hast  this  day  giv'n  way  unto  the  right. 
And  made  the  wicked  stumble  at  themselves  ? 

E7iter  Artois,  hastily. 

Art,  Rescue,  King  Edward !  rescue  for  thy  son ! 

Edw.  Rescue,  Artois  }  what,  is  he  prisoner  ? 
Or,  else,  by  violence  fell  beside  his  horse  ? 

Art.  Neither,  my  lord  ;  but  narrowly  beset 
With  turning  Frenchmen,  whom  he  did  pursue. 
As  'tis  impossible  that  he  should  scape, 
Except  your  highness  presently  descend. 

Edw.  Tut,  let  him  fight ;  we  gave  him  arms  to-day; 
And  he  is  laboring  for  a  knighthood,  man. 

Eiiter  Derby,  hastily, 

Der.  The  prince,  my  lord,  the  prince !  O  succor  him  n 
He's  close  encompass'd  with  a  world  of  odds  ! 

Edw.  Then  will  he  win  a  world  of  honor  too. 
If  he  by  valor  can  redeem  him  thence  : 
If  not,  what  remedy  }  we  have  more  sons 
Than  one,  to  comfort  our  declining  age. 

Re-enter  AUDLEY,  hastily. 

Aud.  Renowned  Edward,  give  me  leave,  I  pray« 
To  lead  my  soldiers,  where  I  may  relieve 
Your  grace's  son,  in  danger  to  be  slain. 
The  snares  of  French,  like  emmets  on  a  bank, 
Muster  about  him;  whilst  he.  lion-like. 
Entangled  in  the  net  of  their  assaults, 
Franticly  rends,  and  bites  the  woven  toil : 
But  all  in  vain,  he  cannot  free  himself. 

Edw.  Audley,  content ;  i  will  not  havr  a  man. 


it «./..]  JSJJfVA/CD  THR  THInn  (Semm  r. 

On  pain  of  death,  sent  forth  to  succor  him  . 

This  is  the  clay  orclain'd  bv  destiny 

To  season  his  courajj^e  with  those  grievous  thought!^ 

Tliat,  if  he  hrcatlic  out  Nestor's  years  on  earth, 

Will  make  him  savor  still  of  this  ex|)loit. 
Dcr.  Ah,  but  he  shall  not  live  to  see  those  days, 
£d:u.  Why,  then  his  ejiitaph  is  lasting;  praise. 
Au(/.  Yet,  good  my  lord,  'tis  too  much  willfulness 

To  let  his  blood  be  spill,  that  may  be  sav'd. 

A\/:l'.  Exclaim  no  more  ;  for  none  of  you  can  tel]« 

Whether  a  borrow'd  aid  will  serve,  or  no  ; 

Perhaps,  he  is  already  slain,  or  ta'en  : 

And  dare  a  falcon  w  hen  she's  in  her  flight. 

And  ever  after  she'll  be  haggard-like  ; 

Let  Edward  be  deliver'd  by  our  hands. 

And  still,  in  danger,  he'll  expect  the  like; 

But  if  himself  himself  redeem  from  thence. 

He  will  have  vanquish 'd,  cheerful,  death,  and  fear. 

And  ever  after  dread  their  force  no  more. 

Than  if  they  were  but  babes,  or  captive  slaves. 
Auif.  O  cruel  father! —  Farewell,  Edward,  then! 
Der.  Farewell,  sweet  prince,  the  hope  of  chivalry  I 
Ar/.  O,  would  my  life  might  ransom  him  from  death  I 
Ed7U.  But,  soft ;  methinks,  I  hear      [Iw/rc-at  soufuUii, 

The  dismal  charge  of  trumpets*  loud  retreat : 

All  are  not  slain,  I  hope,  that  went  with  him  ; 

Some  will  return  with  tidings,  gootl,  or  bad. 

Flourish.     Enter  Prince  Edward  ///  triumph,  bearing 

in  his  hand  his  shivered  lixnce;  his  s^uord,  and 

battered  armor ^  borne  before  him,  and 

t/ie  body  of  the  Kin>^r  of  Bon  KM  I  A, 

wrapped  in  the  colors  :  Lords 

run  and  emt>raee  him. 

Aud.  O  joyful  sight !  victorious  Edward  lives! 

Der.  Welcome,  brave  prince  ! 

Edw.  Welcome.  IMantagenet !  [Embracing  him^ 

Prince.  First  having  done  my  duty,  as  beseem'd. 

\Kneeh,  and  hisses  his  father  s  AoM^U 
Lords,  I  regreet  you  all  with  hearty  thanks. 
And  now,  i)ehold, —  after  my  winter's  toiU 
My  painful  voyage  on  the  boisl'rous  sea 

«.III.  45.J  VII.  47t. 


Act  III.']  EDWARD  THE  THIRD.  ISeftui^ 

Of  war's  devouring  gulfs  and  steely  rocks  — 

I  bring  my  fraught  unto  the  wished  port, 

I\Iy  summer's  hope,  my  travel's  sweet  reward: 

And  here,  with  humble  duty,  I  present 

This  sacrifice,  this  first-fruit  of  my  sword, 

Cropp'd  and  cut  down  even  at  the  gate  of  death. 

The  King  of  Bohemia,  father,  whom  I  slew ; 

Whose  thousands  had  entrench'd  me  round  about. 

And  lay  as  thick  upon  my  batter'd  crest, 

As  on  an  anvil,  with  their  pond'rous  glaives: 

Yet  marble  courage  still  did  underprop  ; 

And  when  my  wear}^  arms,  with  often  blows, — 

Like  the  continual-lab'ring  woodman's  ax. 

That  is  enjoin'd  to  fell  a  load  of  oaks, — 

Began  to  falter,  straight  I  would  remember 

My  gifts  you  gave  me,  and  my  zealous  vow. 

And  then  new  courage  made  me  fresh  again ; 

That,  in  despite,  I  carv'd  my  passage  forth. 

And  put  the  multitude  to  speedy  flight. 

Lo,  thus  hath  Edward's  hand  fill'd  your  request. 

And  done,  I  hope,  the  duty  of  a  knight. 

Edza.  Ay,  well  thou  hast  deserv'd  a  knighthood,  Ned ! 
And,  therefore,  with  thy  sword,  yet  reeking  warm 

{^Receiving  it  fi'oni  the  soldier  wJio  bore  it,  and 
laying  it  on  the  kneeliiig  Prince. 
With  blood  of  those  that  fought  to  be  thy  bane. 
Arise,  Prince  Edward,  trusty  knight  at  arms: 
This  day  thou  hast  confounded  me  with  joy. 
And  prov'd  thyself  fit  heir  unto  a  king. 

Prince.  Here  is  a  note,  my  gracious  lord,  of  those 
That  in  this  conflict  of  cur  foes  were  slain : 
tlieven  princes  of  esteem  ;  fourscore 
Borons  ;  a  hundred  and  twenty  knights ; 
And  thirty  thousand  common  soldiers ; 
And,  of  our  men,  a  thousand. 

Edw.  Our  God  be  prais'd !    Now,  John  of  France,  I 
hope, 
Thftrd  know'st  King  Edward  for  no  wantonness, 
No  uve-sick  cockney  ;  nor  his  soldiers,  jades. — 
But  v/hich  way  is  the  fearful  King  escap'd  ? 

Prk'nce.  Towards  Poitiers,  noble  father,  and  his  sons. 

E(htK  Ned,  thou,  and  Audley,  shall  pursue  them  still ; 
VII.  478.  Cs-'U.  ♦& 


4€tiy.l  SDIVARD  THE  THIRD.  \Jkma i. 

Myself,  and  Derby,  will  to  Calais  straight. 

And  there  bej^nrt  that  haven-town  with  siege: 

Now  lies  it  on  an  ui)shot ;  therefore  strike. 

And  wistly  follow  while  the  game's  on  fool. 

\Miat  picture's  this  ?  [Pointif!^  to  the  colori^ 

Prince.   A  pelican,  my  lord, 
Wounding  her  bosom  with  her  crooked  beak, 
That  so  her  nest  of  young  ones  may  be  fed 
\Vilh  drops  of  blood  that  issue  from  her  heart; 
The  motto,  **  Sic  etvos^  And  so  should  you." 

{^Flourish,     Exeunt  in  triumph. 

ACT  IV, 

Scene  I.     Bretagne,    Camp  of  the  English, 

Forces  under  the   Earl  of  SALISBURY;    SALISBURY'S 
Tent,     Enter  Sallsbuky  ;  to  him,  the 
Earl  of  Mo  NT  FORT,  attended, 
a  coronet  in  his  hand. 

Montfort,  My  Lord  of  Salisbur}-,  since  by  your  aid 
Mine  enemy  Sir  Charles  of  Blois  is  slain, 
And  I  again  am  quietly  possess'd 
In  Bretagne's  dukedom,  know,  that  I  resolve. 
For  this  kind  furtherance  of  your  king,  and  you. 
To  swear  allegiance  to  his  majesty  : 
In  sign  whereof,  receive  this  coronet, 
Bear  it  unto  him  ;  and,  withal,  my  oath. 
Never  to  be  but  Edward's  faithful  friend. 

Sal.  I  take  it,  Montfort:  thus,  I  hope,  ere  long 
The  whole  dominions  of  the  realm  of  France 
Will  be  surrender'd  to  his  conquering  hand. 

{Exeunt  AI  on /fort  and  Thidtt, 
Now,  if  I  knew  but  safely  how  to  pass, ' 
I  would  at  Calais  gladly  meet  his  grace. 
Whither,  I  am  by  letters  certified. 
That  he  intends  to  have  his  host  rt-mov'd. 
It  shall  be  so  :  this  policy  will  serve  :  — 
Ho,  who's  within  ?     Bring  \'illiei-s  to  me. — 

Enter  VILLI ERS. 

Villiers,  thou  know'st,  thou  art  my  priaoiwr. 

fc.iii.4f.)  ^n    *-, 


^eiiP'.l  EDIVARD  THE  THIRD.  [Sctm*  IM, 

And  that  I  might,  for  ransom,  if  I  would. 

Require  of  thee  an  hundred  thousand  francs. 

Or  else  retain  and  keep  thee  captive  still : 

But  so  it  is,  that  for  a  smaller  charge 

Thou  may'st  be  quit,  an  if  thou  wilt  thyself; 

And  this  it  is,  procure  me  but  a  passport 

Of  Charles  the  Duke  of  Normandy,  that  I, 

Without  restraint,  may  have  recourse  to  Calais 

Through  all  the  countries  where  he  hath  to  do, 

{Which  thou  may'st  easily  obtain,  I  think, 

By  reason  I  have  often  heard  thee  say, 

He  and  thyself  were  students  once  together) 

And  then  thou  shalt  be  set  at  liberty. 

How  say'st  thou  ?  wilt  thou  undertake  to  do  it  ? 

Vil.  I  will,  my  lord ;  but  I  must  speak  with  him, 

Sal.  Why,  so  thou  shalt ;   take  horse,  and  post  from 
hence: 
Only,  before  thou  go'st,  swear  by  thy  faith. 
That,  if  thou  canst  not  compass  my  desire. 
Thou  wilt  return  my  prisoner  back  again  ; 
And  that  shall  be  sufficient  warrant  for  thee. 

ViL  To  that  condition  I  agree,  my  lord. 
And  will  unfeignedly  perform  the  same. 

Sal.  Farewell,  Villiers.—  {Exit  Villiers, 

This  once  I  mean  to  try  a  Frenchman's  faith. 

Scene  II.     Picardy,     The  English  cajnp  before  Calais* 
E?tfer  King  Edward,  and  Derby,  with  soldiers, 

Ediu.  Since  they  refuse  our  proffer'd  league,  my  lord. 
And  will  not  ope  their  gates,  and  let  us  in, 
We  will  intrench  ourselves  on  every  side, 
That  neither  victuals,  nor  supply  of  men, 
May  come  to  succor  this  accursed  town  ; 
Famine  shall  combat  where  our  swords  are  stopp*d. 

Der,  The  promis'd  aid,  that  made  them  stand  aloof» 
Is  now  retir'd,  and  gone  another  way; 
It  will  repent  them  of  their  stubborn  will. 

Enter  some  poor  Frenchmen. 
But  what  are  these  poor  ragged  slaves,  my  lord  ? 

Editf,  Ask  "'Hat  they  are ;   it  seems,  they  come  from 
Calais. 

911. 0^  [s.m.  48. 


Ae*  /ri  MDIVARD  THE  THIRD.  [Sc^m  tJ, 

Der,  You  wretched  patterns  of  despair  and  woe. 

What  are  ye  ?  living  men  ;  or  gliding  ghosts, 
Crept  from  your  graves  to  walk  upon  the  earth  ? 

First  F.  No  ghosts,  my  lord,  but  men  that  Ijreathe  a  life 
Far  worse  than  is  the  quiet  sleep  of  death  : 
We  are  distressed  poor  inhabitants, 
That  long  have  been  diseased,  sick,  and  lame ; 
And  now,  because  we  are  not  fit  to  serve. 
The  captain  of  the  town  hath  thrust  us  forth. 
That  so  expense  of  victuals  may  i)e  sav'd. 

E(hu.  A  charitable  deed,  and  worthy  praise*— 
But  how  do  you  imagine  then  to  speed? 
We  are  your  enemies  ;  in  such  a  case 
We  can  no  less  but  put  you  to  the  sword. 
Since,  when  we  proffer'd  truce,  it  was  refus'd. 

First  F.  An  if  your  grace  no  otherwise  vouchsafe. 
As  welcome  death  is  unto  us  as  life. 

Ed7a.  Poor  silly  men,  much  wrong'd,   and  more  dis» 
tress'd  !  — 
Go,  Derby,  go,  and  see  they  be  reliev'd  ; 
Command  that  victuals  be  appointed  them, 
And  give  to  every  one  five  crowns  a-piece:  — 

[Fxeufit  Dt-rby  and  Frenchmtn. 
The  lion  scorns  to  touch  the  yielding  prey ; 
And  Edward's  sword  must  flesh  itself  in  such 
As  willful  stubbornness  hath  made  perverse. — 

Enter  the  Lord  VERC\tf^oni  England, 

Lord  Percy  !  welcome  :  what's  the  news  in  England  ? 

Per,    The  queen,   my   lord,   commends   her  to   your 
grace ; 
And  from  her  highness,  and  the  lord  vicegerent, 
I  bring  this  happy  tidings  of  success  : 
David  of  Scotland,  lately  up  in  arms. 
(Thinking,  belike,  he  soonest  should  prevail. 
Your  highness  being  absent  from  the  realm) 
Is,  by  the  faithful  service  of  yovir  peers. 
And  painful  travel  of  the  queen  herself. 
That,  big  with  child,  was  every  day  in  arms, 
Vanquish'd,  subdu'd,  and  taken  prisoner. 

Edw.  Thanks,  Percy,  for  thy  news,  with  all  my  heart  f 
What  was  he,  took  him  prisoner  in  the  field? 

B.m.49.)  VII.  ♦81. 


Actiy.'i  SLDIVARD  THE  THIRD.  tSctne  U 

Per.  A  squire,  my  lord  ;  John  Copland  is  his  name : 

Who  since,  entreated  by  her  majesty. 
Denies  to  make  surrender  of  his  prize 
To  any  but  unto  your  grace  alone  ; 
Whereat  the  queen  is  grievously  displeas*d. 

Edw.  Well,  then  we'll  have  a  pursuivant  despatch*<t 
To  summon  Copland  hither  out  of  hand, 
And  with  him  he  shall  bring  his  prisoner  king. 

Per.  The  queen's,  my  lord,  herself  by  this  at  sea; 
And  purposeth,  as  soon  as  wind  will  serve, 
To  land  at  Calais,  and  to  visit  you. 

Edzu.  She  shall  be  welcome  ;  and,  to  wait  her  coming 
I'll  pitch  my  tent  near  to  the  sandy  shore. 

Ejifer  a  French  Captain. 

Cap.  The  burgesses  of  Calais,  mighty  king. 
Have,  by  a  council,  willingly  decreed 
To  yield  the  town,  and  castle,  to  your  hands; 
Upon  condition,  it  will  please  your  grace 
To  grant  them  benefit  of  life,  and  goods. 

Edw.  They  will  so  !  then,  belike,  they  may  command. 
Dispose,  elect,  and  govern  as  they  list. 
No,  sirrah; tell  them,  since  they  did  refuse 
Our  princely  clemency  at  first  proclaim'd. 
They  shall  not  have  it  now,  although  they  would; 
I  wiU  accept  of  naught  but  fire  and  sword. 
Except,  within  these  two  days,  six  of  them, 
That  are  the  wealthiest  merchants  in  the  town, 
^ome  naked,  all  but  for  their  linen  shirts. 
With  each  a  halter  hang'd  about  his  neck. 
And  prostrate  yield  themselves,  upon  their  knees. 
To  be  afflicted,  hang'd,  or  what  I  please ; 
And  so  you  may  inform  their  masterships. 

{Exeunt  Edward  and  Percy^ 

Cap.  Why,  this  it  is  to  trust  a  broken  staff. 
Had  we  not  been  persuaded,  John  our  king  ' 
Would  with  his  army  have  reliev'd  the  town, 
We  had  not  stood  upon  defiance  so  : 
But  now  'tis  past  that  no  man  can  recall  ; 
And  better  some  do  go  to  wrack,  tnan  alL  \Exit 


Act/y.}  SDl^'AKD  .HE  THlRDs  {Sent  :it. 

Scene  III.   Po/ton.     l-ields  near  Poitiers.    The  French 
Ca  mp:   Ten  t  of  the  Duke  ^NORMANDY. 

Enter  CHARLES  and  VILLI EkS. 

Char.  I  wonder,  Villlers,  thou  bhouldsi  imp6rtune  me 
For  one  that  is  our  deadly  enemy. 

Vil.  Not  for  his  sake,  my  gracious  lord,  so  much 
Am  I  become  an  e.irnest  advocate, 
As  that  thereby  my  ransom  will  be  quit. 

CJiar.  Thy  ransom,  man  I    why,  need'st  thou  talk  o( 
that  ? 
Art  thou  not  free?  and  are  not  all  occasions 
That  happen  for  advantage  on  our  foes, 
To  be  accej)ted  of,  and  stood  upon  ? 

ViL  No,  good  my  lord,  excej)!  the  same  b«  ttttC; 
For  profit  must  with  honor  ')c  comix'd. 
Or  else  our  actions  are  but  scandalous: 
But,  letting  pass  these  intricate  objections, 
Will't  please  your  highness  to  subscribe,  or  no^ 

Char,  Villiers,  I  will  not,  nor  I  cannot  do  it ; 
Salisbuiy  shall  not  have  his  will  so  much. 
To  claim  a  passport  how  it  please  himself. 

Vil,  Why,  then  I  know  the  extremity,  my  lord, 
I  must  return  to  prison  whence  I  came. 

Char,  Return  !     I  hope,  thou  wilt  iiot,  VillicTB: 
What  bird,  that  hath  escap'd  the  fowler's  gin. 
Will  not  be  ware  how  she  s  ensnar'd  again  } 
Or,  what  is  he,  so  senseless,  and  secure. 
That,  having  hardly  pass'd  a  dangerous  ^1f, 
Will  put  himself  in  peril  there  again? 

Vil.  Ah,  but  it  is  mine  oath,  my  gracious  lord, 
Which  I  in  conscience  may  not  violate. 
Or  else  a  kingdom  should  not  draw  me  hence. 

Char.  Thine  oath  !  why,  that  doth  biiul  thee  tO  tbfd* 
Hast  thou  not  sworn  obedience  to  thy  prince  ? 

Vil.  In  all  things  that  uprightly  he  command! : 
But  either  to  persuade,  or  threaten  me. 
Not  to  perform  the  covenant  of  my  word, 
Is  lawless,  and  I  need  not  to  obey. 

Char.  Why,  is  it  lawful  for  a  man  to  kill. 
And  not,  to  break  a  promise  with  his  foe  ? 

Vil,  To  kill,  my  lord,  when  war  i»  once  proclarm'4 

•.IU.5«.)  Vli.4Bl 


iietn^.l  SDWARD  TH£  THIRD.  UiMM/A 

Bo  that  our  quarrel  be  for  wrongs  receiv'<l. 

No  doubt,  is  lawfully  permitted  us : 

But,  in  an  oath,  we  must  be  well  advis*d 

How  we  do  swear ;  and,  when  we  once  have  sworn* 

Not  to  infringe  it,  though  we  die  therefor : 

Therefore,  my  lord,  as  willing  I  return, 

As  if  I  were  to  fly  to  paradise.  [Gotngi 

Char.  Stay,  my  Villiers ;  thy  honorable  mind 
Deserves  to  be  eternally  admir'd. 
Thy  suit  shall  be  no  longer  thus  deferr'd ; 
Give  me  the  paper,  I'll  subscribe  to  it : 

[Szgns,  and  gives  it  back^ 
And,  wheretofore  I  Iov*d  thee  as  Villiers, 
Hereafter  I'll  embrace  thee  as  myself; 
Stay,  and  be  still  in  favor  with  thy  lord. 

Vil.  I  humbly  thank  your  grace :  I  must  despatch, 
And  send  this  passport  first  unto  the  earl, 
And  then  I  will  attend  your  highness'  pleasure.        \Exit* 

Ckar,  Do  so,  Villiers ; — and  Charles,  when  he  hath 
need, 
Be  such  his  soldiers,  howsoe'er  he  speed ! 

Enter  Ki7ig  JOHN. 

John,  Come,  Charles,  and  arm  thee ;   Edward  is  en« 

trapp'd. 
The  Prince  of  Wales  is  fall'n  into  our  hands. 
And  we  have  compass'd  him,  he  cannot  scape. 
Char,  But  will  your  highness  fight  to-day  ? 
Joh7i.  What  else,  my  son  }  he's  scarce  eight  thousand 
strong, 
And  we  are  threescore  thousand  at  the  least. 

Char.  I  have  a  prophecy,  my  gracious  lord, 
Wherein  is  written,  what  success  is  like 
To  happen  us  in  this  outrageous  war; 
It  was  deliver'd  me  at  Cressi'  field. 

By  one  that  is  an  aged  hermit  there.  \Read5, 

*•  When  feather'd  fowl  shall  make  thine  army  tremble. 
And  flint  stones  rise,  and  break  the  battle  'ray. 
Then  think  on  him  that  doth  not  now  dissemble; 

For  that  shall  be  the  hapless  dreadful  day; 
Yet,  in  the  end,  thy  foot  thou  shalt  advance 
As  far  in  England,  as  thy  foe  in  France," 

VII.  484.  [B.III.  St< 


John,  By  this  it  seems  we  shall  be  fortunate: 

For  as  it  is  iinpossihlc.  that  stones 

Should  ever  rise,  and  break  the  battle  'ray; 

Or  airy  fowl  make  men  in  arms  to  ouake; 

So  is  it  like,  we  shall  not  be  subdu'd  : 

Or,  say  this  mij,dit  be  true,  yet,  in  the  end. 

Since  he  doth  promise,  we  shall  drive  him  hence. 

And  forage  their  country,  as  they  have  done  ours. 

By  this  revenge  that  loss  will  seem  the  less. 

But  all  are  frivolous  fancies,  toys,  and  dreams: 

Once,  we  are  sure  we  have  ensnar'd  the  son. 

Catch  we  the  father  after  how  we  can.  [EjteMm 

Scene  IV.    The  Same.    The  English  camp. 
Enter  Prince  Edward,  Audley,  and  others. 

Prince,    Audley,    the    arms    of    death    embrace    lu 

round, 
And  comfort  have  we  none,  save  that  to  die. 
We  pay  sour  earnest  for  a  sweeter  life. 
At  Cressi'  field  our  clouds  of  warlike  smoke 
Chok'd  up  those  French  moths,  and  dissever'd  them: 
But  now  their  multitudes  of  millions  hide, 
Masking  as  'twere,  the  beauteous  burning  sun  ; 
Leaving  no  hope  to  us,  but  sullen  dark. 
And  eyeless  terror  of  all-ending  night. 

Aud.  This  sudden,  mighty,  and  expedient  head. 
That  they  have  made,  fair  prince,  is  wonderful. 
Before  us  in  the  valley  lies  the  king, 
Vantag'd  with  all  that  heaven  and  earth  can  yield  ; 
His  party  stronger  battled  than  our  whole: 
His  son,  the  braving  Duke  of  Normandy, 
Hath  trimm'd  the  mountain  on  our  right  hand  up 
In  shining  plate,  that  now  the  as|iinng  hill 
Shows  like  a  silver  quarry,  or  an  orb ; 
Aloft  the  which,  the  banners,  bannerets. 
And  new-replenish'd  pendants,  cuff  the  air. 
And  bcRt  the  winds,  that,  for  their  gaudiness. 
Struggles  to  kiss  them :  on  our  left  hand  lict 
Philip,  the  younger  issue  of  the  king, 
Coating  the  other  hill  in  such  array, 
B.in.  SJ.)  VII.  4lf. 


^ct/K}  EDIVARD  THE  THIRD,  iSetne  IV. 

That  all  his  gilded  upright  pikes  do  seem 
Straight  trees  of  gold,  the  pendant  streamers,  leaves; 
And  their  device  of  antique  heraldry, 
Quarter'd  in  colors  seeming  sundry  fruits, 
]Makes  it  the  orchard  of  the  Hesperides  : 
Behind  us  too  the  hill  doth  bear  his  height, 
(For,  like  a  half-moon,  op'ning  but  one  way. 
It  rounds  us  in)  there  at  our  backs  are  lodg'd 
The  fatal  cross-bows  ;  and  the  battle  there 
Is  govern'd  by  the  rough  Chatillion. 
Then  thus  it  stands, —  the  valley  for  our  flight 
The  king  binds  in  ;  the  hills  on  either  hand 
Are  proudly  royalized  by  his  sons  ; 
And  on  the  hill  behind  stands  certain  death. 
In  pay  and  service  with  Chatillion. 
P?'ince.  Death's  name  is  much  more  mighty  than  ha 
deeds ;  — 
Thy  parceling  this  power  hath  made  it  more. 
As  many  sands  as  these  my  hands  can  hold. 
Are  but  my  handful  of  so  many  sands  ; 
Then,  all  the  world, —  and  call  it  but  a  power,— 
Easily  ta'en  up,  and  quickly  thrown  away  : 
But,  if  I  stand  to  count  them  sand  by  sand. 
The  number  would  confound  niy  memory. 
And  make  a  thousand  millions  of  a  task, 
Which,  briefly,  is  no  more,  indeed,  than  one. 
These  quarters,  squadrons,  and  these  regiments. 
Before,  behind  us,  and  on  either  hand. 
Are  but  a  power :  when  we  name  a  man. 
His  hand,  his  foot,  his  head,  have  sever?!  strengths; 
And  being  all  but  one  self  instant  strength. 
Why,  all  this  many,  Audley,  is  but  one. 
And  we  can  call  it  all  but  one  man's  strength. 
He,  that  hath  far  to  go,  tells  it  by  miles  ; 
If  he  should  tell  the  steps,  it  kills  his  heart : 
The  drops  are  infinite,  that  make  a  flood  ; 
And  yet,  thou  know'st,  we  call  it  but  a  rain. 
There  is  but  one  France,  and  one  King  of  France, 
That  France  hath  no  more  kings  ;  and  that  same  Idl^ 
Hath  but  the  puissant  legion  of  one  king ; 
And  we  have  one :  then  apprehend  no  odds; 
i'or  one  to  one  is  fair  eouality. — 


^rt/K]  EDWARD  THE  THIRD.  ISetu*  IV. 

Enter  a  Herald. 

What  tidings,  messenger?  be  plain,  and  brief. 

Her,  The  King  of  France,  my  sovereign  lord  andmas* 
ter, 
Greets  thus  by  me  his  foe  the  Prince  of  Wales : 
If  thou  call  forth  an  iiundred  men  of  name, 
Of  lords,  knights,  'squires,  and  English  gentlemen. 
And  with  ih.yself  and  those  kneel  at  his  feet. 
He  straight  will  fold  his  bloody  colors  up. 
And  ransom  shall  redeem  lives  forfeited: 
If  not,  this  day  shall  drink  more  English  blood 
Than  e'er  was  buried  in  our  British  earth. 
What  is  the  answer  to  his  proffer'd  mercy? 

Prince.  This  heaven,  that  covers  France,  contains  ihc 
mercy 
That  draws  from  me  submissive  orisons  ; 
That  such  base  breath  should  vanish  from  my  lips, 
To  urge  the  plea  of  mercy  to  a  man. 
The  Lord  forbid  !     Return,  and  tell  thy  king, 
My  tongue  is  made  of  steel,  and  it  shall  beg 
My  mercy  on  his  coward  burgonet ; 
Tell  him,  my  colors  are  as  red  as  his. 
My  men  as  bold,  our  English  arms  as  strong. 
Return  him  my  defiance  in  his  face. 

Her,  I  go.  \Exit. 

Enter  another  Herald. 

Prifice.  WHiat  news  with  thee  ? 

Her,  The  Duke  of  Normandy,  my  lord  and  master. 
Pitying  thy  youth  is  so  engirt  with  peril, 
By  me  hath  sent  a  nimble-jointed  jennet. 
As  swift  as  ever  yet  thou  didst  bestride. 
And  therewithal  he  counsels  thee  to  fly  ; 
Else,  death  himself  hath  sworn,  that  thou  shalt  die. 

Prince.  Back  with  the  beast  unto  the  beast  that  sent 
him  ; 
Tell  him,  I  cannot  sit  a  coward's  horse  : 
Bid  him  to-day  bestride  the  jade  himself; 
For  I  will  stain  my  horse  quite  o'er  with  blood. 
And  double-gild  my  spurs,  but  I  will  catch  him; 
So  tell  the  carping  boy,  and  get  thee  gone. 

{Exit  HiraUL 

%JXL  if.]  '^I  4»r 


letira  BDWARD  THE  THIRD.  Vk$9un 

Enter  another  Heraia. 

Her,  Edward  of  Wales,  Philip,  the  second  son 

To  the  most  mighty  Christian  King  of  France, 
Seeing  thy  body's  living  date  expir'd. 
All  full  of  charity  and  Christian  love. 
Commends  this  book,  full  fraught  with  prayers* 
To  thy  fair  hand,  and,  for  thy  hour  of  life, 
Entreats  thee  that  thou  meditate  therein, 
And  arm  thy  soul  for  her  long  journey  towards. 
Thus  have  I  done  his  bidding,  and  return. 

Prz7ice.  Herald  of  Philip,  greet  thy  lord  from  me; 
All  good,  that  he  can  send,  I  can  receive : 
But  think'st  thou  not,  the  unadvised  boy 
Hath  wrong'd  himself,  in  thus  far  tend'ring  me  ? 
Haply,  he  cannot  pray  without  the  book  ; 
I  think  him  no  divine  extemporal : 
Then  render  back  this  commonplace  of  prayer. 
To  do  himself  good  in  adversity  ; 
Besides,  he  knows  not  my  sin's  quality. 
And  therefore  knows  no  prayers  for  my  avail ; 
Ere  night  his  prayer  may  be,  to  pray  to  God 
To  put  it  in  my  heart  to  hear  his  prayer ; 
So  tell  the  courtly  wanton,  and  be  gone. 

Her,  I  go.  [Exit. 

Prince.    How  confident  their  strength   and   numbel 
makes  them  !  — 
Now,  Audley,  sound  those  silver  strings  of  thine. 
And  let  those  milk-white  messengers  of  time 
Show  thy  time's  learning  in  this  dangerous  time; 
Thyself  art  bruis'd  and  bit  with  many  broils. 
And  stratagems  forepast  with  iron  pens 
Are  texted  in  thine  honorable  face  ; 
Thou  art  a  married  man  in  this  distress. 
But  danger  woos  me  as  a  blushing  maid  : 
Teach  me  an  answer  to  this  perilous  time. 

And.  To  die  is  all  as  common,  as  to  live; 
The  one  in  choice,  the  other  holds  in  chase: 
For,  from  the  instant  we  begin  to  live, 
We  do  pursue  and  hunt  the  time  to  die  : 
First  bud  we,  then  we  blow,  and  after  seed ; 
'Hien,  presently,  we  fall ;  and,  as  a  shade 

VII.  483.  (■.»!.  5& 


Act  IF.]  SDIVARD  THE  THIRD.  \.Sctn4  ¥ 

Follows  the  body,  so  we  follow  death. 

If  then  we  hunt  for  deatli,  why  do  we  fear  ft  ? 

If  we  fear  it,  wliy  do  we  follow  it  ? 

If  we  do  fear,  with  fear  we  do  but  aid 

The  thing  we  fear  to  seize  on  us  the  sooner  : 

If  we  fear  not,  then  no  resolved  proffer 

Can  overthrow  the  limit  of  our  fate: 

For,  whether  ripe,  or  rotten,  drop  wc  shall, 

As  we  do  draw  the  lottery  of  our  doom. 

Przfice.  Ah,  good  old  man,  a  thousand  thousand  ai^ 
mors 
These  words  of  thine  have  buckled  on  my  back: 
Ah,  what  an  idiot  hast  thou  made  of  life. 
To  seek  the  thing  it  fears!  and  how  disgrac'd 
The  imperial  victory  of  murd'ring  dtath  I 
Since  all  the  lives,  his  conquering  arrows  strike. 
Seek  him,  and  he  not  them,  to  shame  his  glory. 
I  will  not  give  a  penny  for  a  life, 
Nor  half  a  halfpenny  to  shun  grim  death; 
Since  for  to  live  is  but  to  seek  to  die, 
And  dying  but  beginning  of  new  life: 
Let  come  the  hour  when  he  that  rules  it  will  I 
To  live,  or  die,  I  hold  indifferent.  {ExeunL 

Scene  V.     T/ie  Same,     The  French  camp. 
Enter  King  John  and  Charles. 

John.  A  sudden  darkness  hath  defac'd  the  sky, 
Tne  winds  are  crept  into  their  caves  for  fear, 
The  leaves  move  not,  the  wood  is  hush'd  and  still. 
The  birds  cease  singing,  and  the  wand  "ring  brooks 
Murmur  no  wonted  greeting  to  their  shorts  ; 
Silence  attends  some  wonder,  and  expcclelh 
That  Heaven  should  j)ronouncc  some  prophecy : 
Whence,  or  from  whom,  proceeds  this  silence,  Charles? 

Char.  Our  men,  with  open  mouths,  and  staring  eyes. 
Look  on  each  other,  as  they  did  attend 
Each  other's  words,  and  yet  no  creature  speaks  ; 
A  tongue-tied  fear  hath  made  a  midnight  hour. 
And  speeches  sleep  through  all  the  waking  regions. 

John.   But  now  the  pompous  sun,  in  all  his  pride, 
Look'd  through  his  golden  coach  upon  the  world, 

E.III.S7.1  VII.  489. 


AciiV.'}  EDWARD  THE  THIRD.  {.Scene  V^ 

And,  on  a  sudden,  hath  he  hid  hhnself ; 
That  now  the  under  earth  is  as  a  grave, 
Darkj  deadly,  silent,  and  uncomfortable. 

^A  cIa7nor  of  ravens  kearcU 
Hark  !  what  a  deadly  outcry  do  I  hear ! 

Char.  Here  comes  my  brother  Philip, 

Johft.  All  dismay'd :  — 

Enter  Philip, 

What  fearful  words  are  those  thy  looks  presage  ? 

Phi.  A  flight,  a  flight ! 

Johti.  Coward,  what  flight  ?  thou  liest,  there  needs  Dt 
flight. 

Phi.  A  flight ! 

John.  Awake  thy  craven  powers,  and  tell  OH 
The  ver}^  substance  of  that  fear  indeed. 
Which  is  so  ghastly  printed  in  thy  face  : 
What  is  the  matter  } 

Phi.  A  flight  of  ugly  ravens 
Do  croak  and  hover  o'er  our  soldiers'  heads. 
And  keep  in  triangles,  and  corner'd  squares. 
Right  as  our  forces  are  embattled  ; 
With  their  approach  there  came  this  sudden  fog; 
Which  now  hath  hid  the  airy  floor  of  heaven, 
And  made  at  noon  a  night  unnatural 
Upon  the  quaking  and  dismayed  world : 
In  brief,  our  soldiers  have  let  fall  their  arms. 
And  stand  like  metamorphos'd  images. 
Bloodless  and  pale,  one  gazing  on  another, 

John.  Ay,  now  I  call  to  mind  the  prophecy; 
But  I  m.ust  give  no  entrance  to  a*  fear. — 
Return,  and  hearten  up  those  yielding  souls; 
Tell  them,  the  ravens,  seeing  them  in  arms, — 
So  many  fair  against  a  famish'd  fevv% — 
Come  but  to  dine  upon  their  handiwork, 
And  prey  upon  the  carrion  that  they  kill : 
For  when  we  see  a  horse  laid  down  to  die. 
Although  he  be  not  dead,  the  ravenous  birds 
Sit  watching  the  departure  of  his  life; 
Even  so  these  ravens,  for  the  carcasses 
Of  those  poor  English,  that  are  mark'd  to  diC^ 
Hover  about,  and,  if  they  cry  to  us, 

VII.  4^0  (B.RI.  Sli 


Ac(/y.]  EDl^ARD  THE  THIRD.  {Sctn*  ^. 

*Tis  but  for  meat  that  we  must  kill  for  them. 

Away,  and  comfort  up  my  soldiers, 

And  sound  the  trumpets;  and  at  once  despatch 

This  little  business  of  a  silly  fraud.  {E.xit  Philip. 

Noise  within.     Enter  a  French  Captain,  ivith 
Salisbury,  prisoner. 

Cap.  Behold,  my  liege,  this  knight,  and  fortv  more,— 
Of  whom  the  better  part  are  slain  and  fled,— 
With  all  endeavor  sought  to  break  our  ranks. 
And  make  their  way  to  the  encompass'd  prince; 
Dispose  of  him  as  please  your  majesty. 

John,    Go,   and   the   next   bough,   soldier,  that    thou 
seest. 
Disgrace  it  with  his  body  presently  : 
For  I  do  hold  a  tree  in  France  too  good 
To  be  the  gallows  of  an  English  thief. 

Sal.  My  Lord  of  Normandy,  I  have  your  past 
And  warrant  for  my  safety  through  this  land. 

Char.  Villiers  procur'd'it  for  thee,  did  he  not? 

Sal.  He  did. 

Char,  And  it  is  current,  thou  shalt  freely  pass, 

John.  Ay,  freely  to  the  gallows  to  be  hang'd, 
Without  denial,  or  impediment :  — 
Away  with  him. 

Char,  I  hope,  your  highness  will  not  so  disgrace  mc. 
And  dash  the  virtue  of  my  seal  at  arms : 
He  hath  my  never-broken  name  to  show, 
Character'd  with  this  princely  hand  of  mme ; 
And  rather  let  me  leave  to  be  a  prince. 
Than  break  the  stable  verdict  of  a  prince  : 
I  do  beseech  you,  let  him  pass  in  quiet. 

John.   Thou  and  thy  word  lie  both  in  my  commandj 
What  canst  thou  promise,  that  1  cannot  break? 
Which  of  these  twain  is  greater  infamy. 
To  disobey  thy  father,  or  thyself  ? 
Thy  word,  nor  no  man's,  may  exceed  his  power; 
Nor  that  same  man  doth  never  break  his  word. 
That  keeps  it  to  the  utmost  of  his  power: 
The  breach  of  faith  dwells  in  the  soul's  consent; 
Which  if  thyself  without  consent  do  break, 
Thou  art  not  charged  with  the  breach  of  faith.— 

tt.III.S9.]  VII.  tok. 


ActlKl  BDWARD  THE  THtRD.  iSc€iu¥^ 

Go,  hang  him  ;  for  thy  license  lies  in  me : 
And  my  constraint  stands  the  excuse  for  thee. 

Char,  What,  am  I  not  a  soldier  in  my  word  ? 
Then,  arms  adieu,  and  let  them  tight  that  list : 
Shall  I  not  give  my  girdle  from  my  waist, 
But  with  a  guardian  I  shall  be  controll'd, 
To  say,  I  may  not  give  my  things  aw^ay  ? 
Upon  my  soul,  had  Edward  Prince  of  Wales 
Engag'd  his  word,  writ  down  his  noble  hand. 
For  all  your  knights  to  pass  his  father's  land, 
The  royal  king,  to  grace  his  warlike  son, 
Would  not  alone  safe-conduct  give  to  them, 
But  with  all  bounty  feasted  them  and  theirs. 

jokn.  Dwell'st  thou  on  precedents  ?     Then  be  it  SO.— 
Say,  Englishman,  of  what  degree  thou  art  ? 

Sai.  An  earl  in  England,  though  a  prisoner  here ; 
And  those,  that  know  me,  call  me  Salisbur}-. 

John.  Then,  Salisbur}',  say,  whither  thou  art  bound? 

Sal.  To  Calais,  where  my  liege.  King  Edward,  is. 

John.  To  Calais,  Salisbury  ?     Then  to  Calais  pack ; 
And  bid  the  king  prepare  a  noble  grave. 
To  put  his  princely  son,  black  Edward,  in. 
And  as  thou  travel'st  westward  from  this  place, 
Some  two  leagues  hence  there  is  a  lofty  hill, 
Whose  top  seems  topless,  for  the  embracing  sky 
Doth  hide  his  high  head  in  her  azure  bosom. ; 
Unto  whose  tall  top  when  thy  foot  attains. 
Look  back  upon  the  humble  vale  below, 
(Humble  of  late,  but  now  made  proud  with  arms) 
And  thence  behold  the  wretched  Prince  of  Wales, 
Hoop'd  with  a  band  of  iron  round  about. 
After  which  sight  to  Calais  spur  amain, 
And  say,  the  prince  was  smother'd,  and  not  slain: 
And  tell  the  king,  this  is  not  all  his  ill ; 
For  I  will  greet  him,  ere  he  thinks  I  will. 
Away,  be  gone  ;  the  smoke  but  of  our  shot 
Will  choke  our  foes,  though  bullets  hit  them  not. 

[Exeuntt 


Vn.  49t.  [a.ni.  <A 


fie:  I  v.,  EDWARD  THE  THIRD.  \6ttn4  VK 

Scene  VI.     The  Same.    A  Part  of  the  Field  of  Battle, 

Aiarttms,  as  of  a  battle  joined,  skirmishings. 
Enter  Pince  Edward  and  Ariois. 

Art.  How  fares  your  grace?    are  you  noi  shot,  my 
lord  ? 

Prince,  No,  dear  Ariois;  but  chok'd  wiih  dust  and 
smoke, 
And  stepp'd  aside  for  breath  and  fresher  air. 

Art.  Breathe  then,  and  lo't  aj^ain  :  the  amazed  French 
Are  quite  distract  with  j^azing  on  the  crows  ; 
And,  were  our  quivers  full  of  shafts  ajjain. 
Your  grace  should  see  a  glorious  day  of  this  :  — 
O,  for  more  arrows,  lord  I  that  is  our  want. 

Prince.  Courage,  Artois!  a  fig  for  fealher'd  shaft*. 
When  feather'd  fowls  do  bandy  on  our  side  ! 
What  need  we  fight,  and  sweat,  and  keep  a  coil. 
When  railing  crows  out-scold  our  adversaries? 
Up,  up,  Artois!  the  ground  ilsdf  is  arm'd  : 
Fire-containing  flint  ;  command  our  bows 
To  hurl  away  their  pretly-color'd  yew. 
And  to't  with  stones  :  away,  Artois,  away; 
My  soul  doth  prophesy  we  win  the  day,  [Exeunt, 

Alarums,  and  Parties  skirmishing.     Enter 
A'inx  John. 

John.  Our  multitudes  are  in  themselves  confounded 
Dismayed,  and  distraught  ;  swift-starting  fear 
Hath  buzz'd  a  cold  dismay  through  all  our  army. 
And  every  petty  disadvantage  prompts 
The  fear-possessed  abject  soul  to  fly  : 
Myself,  whose  spirit  is  steel  to  liieir  dull  lead* 
(What  with  recalling  of  the  prophecy. 
And  that  our  native  stones  from  English  <irmt 
Rebel  against  us)  find  myself  attainted  • 

With  strong  surprise  of  weak  and  yielding  fear. 

Enter  CHARLES. 

Char.  Fly,  father,  fly!  the  French  do  kill  the  French  ; 
Some  that  would  stand,  let  drive  at  some  that  fly  : 
Our  drums  strike  nothing  but  discouragement. 
Our  trumpets  sound  dishonor  and  retire; 

R.in.6i.]  VII.  4<n. 


£eiIS^.\  KDIVARD  THE  THTRD,  {JScetuVl. 

The  spirit  of  fear,  that  feareth  naught  but  deaths 
Cowardly  works  confusion  on  itself. 

Enter  Philip. 

Pki,   Pluck  out  your  eyes,  and    see   not  this  day's 
shame ! 
An  arm  hath  beat  an  army ;  one  poor  David 
Hath  with  a  stone  foil'd  twenty  stout  GoHahs  : 
Some  twenty  naked  starvelings,  with  small  flints. 
Have  driven  back  a  puissant  host  of  men, 
Array'd  and  fenc'd  in  all  accomplements. 

John.  Mordieu,  they  quoit  at  us,  and  kill  us  up  ; 
No  less  than  forty  thousand  wicked  elders 
Have  forty  lean  slaves  this  day  ston'd  to  death. 

Char.  O,  that  I  were  some  other  countr}-man  ? 
This  day  hath  set  derision  on  the  French  ; 
And  all  the  world  will  blurt  and  scorn  at  us. 

JqIiu.  What,  is  there  no  hope  left  ? 

Phi.  No  hope,  but  death,  to  bur}^  up  our  shame. 

John.  ]\Iake  up  once  more  with  me  ;  the  twentieth  part 
Of  those  that  live,  are  men  enough  to  quail 
The  feeble  handful  on  the  adverse  part. 

Char.  Then  charge  again:  if  Heaven  be  not  oppos'd. 
We  cannot  lose  the  day. 

John,  On,  on ;  away.  [Exeunt, 

Alansms,  &*c.     Enler  Audley,  wounded,  and  iwi 
Esquires,  his  rescuers. 

First  Esq,  How  fares  my  lord  ? 

Aud.  E'en  as  a  man  may  do. 
That  dines  at  such  a  bloody  feast  as  this. 

Sec.  Esq.  I  hope,  my  lord,  that  is  no  mortal  SCar. 

Aud.  No  matter,  if  it  be  ;  the  count  is  cast. 
And,  in  the  worst,  ends  but  a  mortal  man. 
Good  friends,  convey  me  to  the  princely  Edward* 
That,  in  the  crimson  braveiy  of  my  blood, 
I  may  become  him  with  saluting  him  ; 
ni  smile,  and  tell  him,  that  this  open  scar 
Doth  end  the  harvest  of  his  Audley 's  war.  [Exeunt, 

[Otkdr  alarums;  aft*rwards»  a  retreat, 

VIL  tat.  [E.I1I.  62. 


Aet/y.i  ^Dn'A/i^   THE  TH.iil).  \^tm«  VIM. 

Scene  VII.     The  Same.      The  English  Camp. 

Flourish.    Enter  Prime  Edwaku.  ///  triumph,  leading 

prisoners,  Kini^  JuHN  afui  his  son  CllAKLtS ; 

and  vjjieers,  soldiers,  &»c. ,  with 

ensii^ns  spread. 

Prince,   Now,  John   in    Trance,  and   lately   John   oi 
France, 
Thy  bloody  ensigns  are  my  captive  colors; 
And  you,  high-vauiuin^^  Charles  of  Normandy, 
That  once  to-day  sent  me  a  horse  to  fly. 
Are  now  the  subjects  of  my  clemency. 
Fie,  lords  I  is't  not  a  shame,  that  Knglish  boyt, 
Whose  early  days  are  yet  not  worth  a  beard. 
Should  in  the  bosom  of  your  kingdom  thus, 
One  against  twenty,  beat  you  up  together? 

John.  Thy  fortune,  not  thy  force,  hath  conquer'd  utu 

Prince,  An  argument,  that  Heaven  aids  the  right. — 
Enter  Artois,  luith  Philip. 
See,  see,  Artois  doth  bring  along  with  him 
The  late  good  counsel-giver  to  my  soul  !  — 
Welcome,  Artois  ;  —  and  welcome,  I'hilip,  tOOt 
Who  now,  of  you,  or  I,  have  need  to  pray  ? 
Now  is  the  proverb  verified  in  you, 
Too  brigiu  a  morning  breeds  a  louring  day.— - 

Enter  Audley,  led  by  the  two  Esquires, 
But,  say,  what  grim  discouragement  comes  here! 
Alas,  what  thousand  armed  men  of  France 
Have  writ  that  note  of  death  in  Audley's  face?  — 
Speak,  thou  that  woo'^t  death  with  thy  careless  smilc; 
And  look  St  so  merrily  upon  thy  grave 
As  if  thou  wert  enamor'd  on  thine  end. 
What  hungry  sword  hath  so  bereav'd  thy  face. 
And  lopp'd  a  true  friend  from  my  loving  soul  ? 

And.  O  prince,  thy  sweet  bemoaning  speech  tO  IDt 
Is  as  a  mournful  knell  to  one  dead-sick. 

Prince.  Dear  Audley,  if  my  tongue  ring  out  thy  CDd 
My  arms  sliall  be  liiy  grave  :  what  mav  1  do. 
To  win  thy  life,  or  to  revenge  thy  death  } 
If  thou  wilt  drink  the  blooil  of  captive  king!,— 
Or,  that  it  were  restorative,  command 


4te  KJ  XDWARD  THE  THIRD.  [Sc»mt  M 

A  health  ef  king's  blood,  and  HI  drink  to  thee : 
If  honor  may  ( ispense  for  thee  with  death, 
The  never-dying  honor  of  this  day 
Share  wholly,  Audley,  to  thyself,  and  live. 

A7^(f.  Victorious  prince, —  that  thou  art  80,  behokt 
A  Caesar's  fame  in  kings'  captivity,— 
If  I  could  hold  dim  death  but  at  a  bay, 
'Till  I  did  see  my  liege  thy  ro3-al  father, 
My  soul  should  yield  this  castle  of  my  flesh, 
This  mangled  tribute,  with  all  willingness. 
To  darkness,  consummation,  dust,  and  worms. 

Prince.  Cheerly,  bold  man  !  thy  soul  is  all  too  proud^ 
To  yield  her  city  for  one  little  breach  ; 
She'ld  be  divorcM  from  her  earthly  spouse 
By  the  soft  temper  of  a  Frenchman's  sword? 
Lo,  to  repair  thy  life,  I  give  to  thee 
Three  thousand  marks  a  year  in  English  land. 

And.  I  take  thy  gift,  to  pay  the  debts  I  owe  : 
These  two  poor  'squires  redeem'd  me  from  the  Frendli 
With  lusty  and  dear  hazard  of  their  lives  ; 
What  thou  hast  given  to  me,  I  give  to  them  ; 
And,  as  thou  lov'st  me,  prince,  lay  thy  consent 
To  this  bequeath  in  my  last  testament. 

P?'ince.  Renowned  Audley,  live,  and  have  from  me 
This  gift  twice  doubled,  to  these  'squires,  and  thee  : 
But,  live,  or  die,  what  thou  hast  given  away. 
To  these,  and  theirs,  shall  lasting  freedom  stay,— 
Come,  gentlemen,  I'll  see  my  friend  bestow'd 
Within  an  easy  litter ;  then  we'll  march 
Proudly  toward  Calais,  with  triumphant  pace. 
Unto  my  royal  father,  and  there  bring 
The  tribute  of  my  wars,  fair  France's  king,  [Exeunt, 

ACTV. 
Scene  I.    Picardy,     The  EitgUsk  Camp  before  Calais, 

Enter  King  Edward,  with  Philippa  his  Qtieejt  and 

Derby  ;  Officers,  Soldiers,  &^c, 

Edward,  No  more,  Queen  Philippa,  pacify  yourself ; 
Copland,  except  he  can  excuse  his  fault, 
Shall  find  displeasure  written  in  our  looks. — 

vil.  496.  (ftm.  N. 


d^t-y.l  MDWAMJf  THE  THl.^^D.  LtMvA. 

And  now  unto  this  proud  resisting  town  ; 

Soldiers,  assault ;  I  will  no  longer  stay, 

To  be  deluded  by  their  false  dda)  s  ; 

Put  all  to  sword,  and  make  the  spoil  your  own. 

Trumpets  sound  to  anus.     Enter ,  froni  the  t«mm,  wim 
Citizens^  in  their  shirts,  and  bare- 
footed, with  halters  about 
their  necks. 

at,  Mercy,  King  Edward  !  nieic\ ,  gracious  lord ! 

Ediu,  Contemptuous  villains!  call  ye  now  for  truce ^ 
Mine  ears  are  slopp'd  against  your  bootless  cries:  — 
Sound,  drums;  \^Alaruni\  draw,  threat'ning  swordtl 

First  at.  Ah,  noble  i)rince. 
Take  pity  on  this  town,  and  hear  us,  mighty  King! 
We  claim  the  promise  that  your  highness  made; 
The  two  days'  respite  is  not  yet  exj)ir'd, 
And  we  are  come,  with  willingness,  to  bear 
What  torturing  death,  or  punishment,  you  please. 
So  that  the  trembling  multitude  be  sav'd. 

Edw.  My  promise  ?  well,  1  do  confess  as  much  : 
But  I  requir'd  the  chiefest  ciiiztns. 
And  men  of  most  account,  that  should  submit  j 
Vou,  peradventure,  are  but  servile  grooms. 
Or  some  felonious  robbers  on  the  sea. 
Whom,  apprehended,  law  would  execute. 
Albeit  severity  lay  dead  in  us  : 
No,  no,  ye  cannot  over-reach  us  thus. 

Sec,  at.  The  sun,  dread  lord,  that  in  the  westcn  UM. 
Beholds  us  now  low  brought  through  miser)'. 
Did  in  the  orient  purple  of  the  morn 
Salute  our  coming  forth,  when  we  were  known; 
Or  may  our  portion  be  with  damned  fu  nds. 

Edw.  If  it  be  so,  then  let  our  covenant  stand. 
We  take  possession  of  the  town  in  peace  : 
But,  for  yourselves,  look  you  for  no  remorse ; 
But,  as  imperial  justice  hath  decreed. 
Your  bodies  shall  be  dragg'd  about  these  wnlls. 
And  after  feel  the  stroke  of  quarteiing  steel : 
This  is  your  doom  ;  —  go,  soUhers.  see  it  done. 

Queen.   Ah,  be  more  miUI  unto  iluse  yieldmg 
It  is  a  glorious  thing,  to  'stablish  peace ; 

■411.  69.]  ^"-  ^^ 


^ctl^.':'  hry^ARL  THE  THIRD.  {Scene  I. 

And  kings  approach  the  nearest  unto  God, 

By  giving  life  and  safety  unto  men : 

As  thou^ntendest  to  be  King  of  France, 

.So  let  her  people  live  to  call  thee  king ; 

For  what  the  sword  cuts  down,  or  fire  hath  spoird. 

Is  held  in  reputation  none  of  ours. 

E:iw.  Although  experience  teach  us  this  is  true, 

Th;it  peaceful  quietness  brings  most  delight 

When  most  of  all  abuses  are  controli'd, 

Yet;  insomuch  it  shall  be  known,  that  we 

As  well  can  master  our  affections, 

As  conquer  other  by  the  dint  of  sword, 

Philippa,  prevail ;  we  yield  to  thy  request ; 

These  men  shall  live  to  boast  of  clemency, — 

A.v\6.,  tyranny,  strike  terror  to  thyself. 

at.  Long  live  your  highness  !  happy  be  your  reign  \ 
Ediu.  Go,  get  you  hence,  return  unto  the  town ; 

And  if  this  kindness  hath  deserv'd  your  love, 

Learn  then  to  reverence  Edward  as  your  king. — 

[Exeunt  Czti'sens, 

u>^cw,  might  we  hear  of  our  affairs  abroad. 

We  would,  'till  gloomy  winter  were  o'er-spent. 

Dispose  our  men  in  garrison  a  while. 

But  who  comes  here  } 

Enter  Copland  and  King  David. 

Der.  Copland,  my  lord,  and  David  King  of  Scots. 

Ediu.  Is  this  the  proud  presumptuous  squire  o*  thf 
north, 
Tha<:  would  not  yield  his  prisoner  to  my  queen  } 

Cop.  I  am,  my  liege,  a  northern  'squire,  indeed, 
But  neither  proud  nor  insolent,  I  trust. 

Edio.  WHiat  mov'd  thee  then,  to  be  so  obstinate 
Tc  contradict  our  royal  queen's  desire  } 

Cop.  No  willful  disobedience,  mighty  lord. 
But  my  desert,  and  public  law  of  arms  : 
1  took  the  king  myself  in  single  fight ; 
And,  like  a  soldier,  would  be  loath  to  lose 
The  least  pre-eminence  that  I  had  won  : 
And  Copland,  straight  upon  your  highness*  charge. 
Is  com.e  to  France,  and,  with  a  lowly  mind, 
Dcth  vail  the  bonnet  of  his  victory. 

VII.  4^3.  ts.isi.  5fc 


/J"  Kj  EDWARD  TUL    rUIKD.  f>/rv  / 

Receive,  dread  lord,  the  custom  cf  my  fraught. 
The  wealthy  tribute  of  my  laboring  hands; 
Which  shoukl  long  since  have  been  surrcnd<r'd  up. 
Had  but  your  gracious  self  beer,  there  in  place. 

Qjieen,  But,  Copland,  thou  didst  scorn  the  king's  conv 
mand, 
Neglecting  our  ccrnmission  in  his  name. 

Cop.  His  name  i  reverence,  but  his  person  more, 
His  name  shall  keep  nic  in  alU-giance  still, 
But  to  his  person  1  will  btnd  my  knee. 

Eihu.  I  pray  thee,  I'hilii)pa,  let  displeasure  pass; 
This  man  doth  please  me,  and  I  like  his  words; 
For  what  is  he,  that  w  ill  attempt  high  deeds, 
And  lose  the  glory  that  ensues  the  same? 
All  rivers  have  recourse  unto  the  sea; 
And  Copland's  faith,  relation  to  his  king. — 
Kneel  therefore  down  ;  now  risr.  King  Edward'i  knight  : 
And,  to  maintain  thy  state,  I  freely  give 
Five  hundred  marks  a  year  to  thee  and  thine. — 

Enter  Salisbury. 

Welcome,  Lord  Salisbury:  what  news  from  Brelagne? 

Sal.  This,  mighty  king:  the  country  we  have  w-oo; 
And  John  de  Monlfort,  regent  of  that  j)lacc. 
Presents  your  highness  with  this  coioiu-t. 
Protesting  true  allegiance  to  your  j;i.icc. 

Eihu.  We  thank  thee  for  thy  service,  valiant  cari ; 
Challenge  our  favor,  for  we  owe  it  thee. 

Sal.  But  now,  my  lord,  as  this  is  joyful  new-fc. 
So  must  my  voice  be  tragical  again. 
And  I  must  sing  of  doleful  accidents. 

Edw.  What,  have  our  men  the  overthrow  at  PoitifTt  F 
Or  is  my  son  beset  with  too  nmch  odds  ? 

Sal.   He  was,  my  lord  :  and  as  my  wonhlctt  sdi 
With  forty  other  serviceable  knights. 
Under  safe-conduct  of  the  Dauphin's  sea) 
Did  travel  that  way,  tintling  him  distress^ 
A  troop  of  lances  met  us  on  the  way, 
Surpris'd,  and  brought  us  prisoners  to  the  kiQf  ( 
Who,  proud  of  this,  and  eager  of  revenue. 
Commanded  straig'nt  to  cut  off  all  our  head** 
And  surely  we  had  died,  but  that  the  duke 

A.1I1.  67.)  ^**'  •*• 


Wtf^KJ  EDWARD  THE  THIRD,  iSctnt i. 

More  full  of  honor  than  his  angry  sire, 

Procur'd  our  quick  deliverance  from  thence  : 

But,  ere  we  went,  "  Salute  your  king,"  quoth  he, 

*'  Bid  him  provide  a  funeral  for  his  son, 

To-day  our  sword  shall  cut  his  thread  of  life ; 

And,  sooner  than  he  thinks,  we'll  be  with  him. 

To  quittance  those  displeasures  he  hath  done: " 

This  said,  we  pass'd,  not  daring  to  reply ; 

Our  hearts  were  dead,  our  looks  diffus'd  and  wan. 

WandVing,  at  last  we  climb'd  unto  a  hill ; 

Trom  whence,  although  our  grief  were  much  before. 

Yet  now  to  see  the  occasion  with  our  eyes 

Did  thrice  so  much  increase  our  heaviness : 

For  there,  my  lord,  O,  there  we  did  descry 

Down  in  a  valley  how  both  armies  lay. 

The  French  had  cast  their  trenches  like  a  ring ; 

And  every  barricado's  open  front 

Was  thick  emboss'd  with  brazen  ordnance : 

Here  stood  a  battle  of  ten  thousand  horse ; 

There  twice  as  many  pikes,  in  quadrantwise : 

Here  cross-bows,  arm/d  with  deadly-wounding  dartS: 

And  in  the  midst,  like  to  a  slender  point 

Within  the  compass  of  the  horizon, — 

As't  were  a  rising  bubble  in  the  sea, 

A  hazel-wand  amidst  a  wood  of  pines, — 

Or  as  a  bear  fast  chain'd  unto  a  stake. 

Stood  famous  Edward,  still  expecting  when 

Those  dogs  of  France  would  fasten  on  his  flesh. 

Anon,  the  death-procuring  knell  begins  : 

Off  go  the  cannons,  that,  with  trembling  noise. 

Did  shake  the  very  mountain  where  we  stood  ; 

Then  sound  the  trumpets'  clangors  in  the  air, 

The  battles  join  :  and,  when  we  could  no  more 

Discern  the  difference  'twixt  the  friend  and  foe, 

(So  intricate  the  dark  confusion  was) 

Away  we  turn'd  our  wat'r}-  eyes,  with  sighs 

As  black  as  powder  fuming  into  smoke. 

And  thus,  I  fear,  unhappy  have  I  tojd 

The  most  untimely  tale  of  Edward's  fall. 

Queen.  Ah  me  !  is  this  my  welcome  into  France? 
Is  this  the  comfort,  that  I  look'd  to  have. 
When  I  should  meet  with  my  beloved  son  ? 

VII.  soo.  (B.ni.  6& 


4cty»t  MDH^ARD  THE  THIKD.  {*itm,  i 

Sweet  Ned,  I  would,  thy  mother  in  the  Rca 
Had  been  prevented  of  this  mortal  grief  f 

Edw.  Content  ihre,  Philippa  ;  'tis  not  leart,  wfllMrfw 
To  call  him  back,  if  he  be  taken  hence: 
Comfort  thyself,  as  I  do.  gentle  queen, 
With  hope  of  sharp,  unheard-of,  (hre  revenge— 
He  bids  me  to  provide  his  funeral ; 
And  so  I  will  :  l)ut  all  the  peers  in  France 
Shall  mourners  be,  and  weep  out  bloody  tear^ 
Until  their  empty  veins  be  dn.-  and  sere': 
The  pillars  of  his  hearse  shall  br  their  bonet; 
The  mold  that  covers  him  thtir  cities*  ashes; 
His  knell,  the  j^roaning  cries  of  dying  men ; 
And,  in  the  stead  of  tapers  on  his  tomb. 
An  hundred  fifty  towers  shall  burning  blaze. 
While  we  bewail  our  valiant  son's  decease 

Flourish  of  trumpets  ivithin.     Enter  a  HertJd. 

Her.  Rejoice,  my  lord;  ascend  the  imperial  throat ! 
The  mighty  and  redoubted  Prince  of  Wales, 
Great  servitor  to  bloody  Mars  in  arms, 
The  Frenchman's  terror,  and  his  countr)'s  fame. 
Triumphant  rideth  like  a  Roman  i)eer : 
And,  lowly  at  his  stirrup,  comes  afoot 
King  John  of  France,  together  with  his  son, 
In  captive  bonds  ;  whose  diadem  he  brings. 
To  crown  thee  with,  and  to  proclaim  thee  king. 

EdiL\    Away    with    mourning,    Philippa,    wipe    thine 
eyes;  — 
Sound,  trumpets,  welcome  in  Plantagcnet ! 

A  loud  flourish.   Enter  Prince.  AfDI.KY.  ARTOIS.tt'/'/A 
Kini^  John,  and  PHILIP. 

As  things,  long  lost,  when  they  are  found  again. 

So  doih  my  son  rejoice  his  father's  heart. 

For  whomi  even  now,  my  soul  was  much  prrplcx'd  ! 

\Runnini^  to  the  Prince,  and einhacin^ him. 
Queen.  Be  this  a  "token  t^  expr»:ss  niy  joy. 
*"  I  Kissing  kinu 

For  inward  passions  will  not  let  me  spea'w. 

Prince,  My  gracious  father,  here  receive  me  gifl. 
\P resenting  him  with  Ktng  John's  ^ 

tt.Ml.6Q.)  VII.  50«. 


Actil  EDV/ARn  THE  THIRD,  '^Scen^S. 

This  wreath  of  conquest,  and  reward  of  war. 
Got  with  as  mickle  peril  of  our  lives, 
As  e'er  was  thing  of  price  before  this  day ; 
Install  your  highness  in  your  proper  right : 
And,  herewithal,  I  render  to  your  hands 
These  prisoners,  chief  occasion  of  our  strife 

Edw.  So,  John  of  France,  I  see,  you  keep  your  word. 
You  promis'd  to  be  sooner  with  ourself 
Than  we  did  think  for,  and  'tis  so  indeed: 
But,  had  you  done  at  first  as  now  you  do. 
How  many  civil  towns  had  stood  untouch'd, 
That  now  are  turn'd  to  ragged  heaps  of  stones? 
How  many  people's  lives  might  you  have  sav'd, 
That  are  untimely  sunk  into  their  graves  ? 

John.  Edward,  recount  not  things  irrevocable  ; 
Tell  me  what  ransom  thou  requir'st  to  have  ? 

Edw.  Thy  ransom,  John,  hereafter  shall  be  kncwn  : 
But  first  to  England  thou  must  cross  the  seas, 
To  see  what  entertainment  it  affords  ; 
Howe'er  it  falls,  it  cannot  be  so  bad 
As  ours  hath  been  since  we  arriv'd  in  France. 

John.  Accursed  man  !  of  this  I  was  foretold. 
But  did  misconster  what  the  prophet  told. 

Prince.  Now,  father,  this  petition  Edward  makes,-r- 
To  Thee,  \k7ieels\  whose  grace  hath  been  his  strongest 

shield. 
That,  as  Thy  pleasure  chose  me  for  the  man 
To  be  the  instrument  to  show  Thy  power, 
So  Thou  wilt  grant,  that  many  princes  more. 
Bred  and  brought  up  within  that  little  isle. 
May  still  be  famous  for  like  victories  !  — 
And,  for  my  part,  the  bloody  scars  I  bear, 
The  weary  nights  that  I  have  watch'd  in  field. 
The  dangerous  conflicts  I  have  often  had. 
The  fearful  menaces  were  proffer'd  me, 
The  heat,  and  cold,  and  what  else  might  displease, 
I  wish  were  now  redoubled  twenty-fold ; 
So  that  hereafter  ages,  when  they  read 
The  painful  traffic  of  my  tender  youth. 
Might  thereby  be  inflamed  with  such  resolve. 
As  not  the  territories  of  France  alone, 
But  likewise  Spain,  Turkey,  and  what  countries  else 

VIL  «o».  fs.ui.  fft 


Hetr.l  BDIVARD  THE  THIRD.  {S,,mti 

That  justly  would  provoke  fair  England's  ire. 
Might,  at  their  presence,  tremble  and  retire! 

AV/Tf/.  Here,  English  lords,  we  do  proclaim  a  rwt. 
And  interceasing  of  our  j)ainful  arms  : 
Sheathe  up  your  swords,  refresh  your  weary  limbs. 
Peruse  your  si)oiIs ;  and,  after  we  have  brcath'd 
A  day  or  two  within  this  haven  town, 
God  willing,  then  for  England  we'll  be  shipp'd  ; 
Where,  in  a  haj)j)y  hour,  I  trust,  we  shall 
Arrive,  three  kings,  two  princes,  and  a  queen. 

[J'7uu/  is/i.     KAtur^t  ortnfi 


Vtl-fin. 


A     GLOSSARY 


rrmrsUAL    iroRDs  axd    iroKDS   lsed   in    v.\usif4Ji 

SENSES  IN"  THE  WORKS  OF 

SH  AKi:  SPKA  R  1   . 


abate,  to  cast   down   in  spirit)  to 

blitiit  ;  to  take  away. 

Abcee-book,  ;.n  A-H-C-bwk. 

abhor.      <'t  a  mere-  word  of  passion, 
l)::t  a  technical  term  in  the  canon 

abide,  to  be  accountable  for. 
able,   tu  qualify  or  uphold, 
abode,   t  •  forebode, 
abridg'ment     a  dramatic  perfof 

■  i.i   l:,  I  lie  players,  who  represent 
an  iiltiiii^iutnt. 

abrook.  to  brook, 
absent.  /////<-.  absence. 

absolute,  determined,  pa<utiv«. 
abuse,   l"  impose  upon. 
aby.   I  lie  same  as  to  abiiit, 
aCCGpt.    acceptation, 
accite.   t  .  summon  ;  to  impel. 
accOiiiplish'd.  7<'/V//,  attained  to. 
aCCOrdingrly.    proportionably. 
acknown.  acquainted  with, 
acouitum.  aconite, 
acturo.  ••  ti-n. 
adamant    thr  magnet. 

addiction,  inclination, 
addition,   title.   m.irk  of  distinct- 

in  ;  '  va.geration. 
address,   to  prepare, 
admiral,   the  chief  ship  of  a  fleet. 
admittance,  fashion, 
advertise,   lo  be  convenuint  with. 

advertisement,  admonition, 
advertising:   attentive. 

advice,    c msiileratloti. 
advised,  ileliberatc ;  cauliout. 
affect,  to  love, 
affect   tilt  littt-r,  practice  alliterA' 

affection,  imagination;  »ymp.ithy; 

^iTccta'ion. 


affecta.   affection*. 

affeer'd.  (a  Uw.|crm>  conflnned. 

affin'd     '  •■!>'-i|  b>  afliiuiy. 

.if*""       *  '-ncounier. 

a  h;  to  ci/nfi  I-. 

;i.      .  t 

ii;i:kritvutu     kitttytt,  add  to  hia 

a^let-baby.  a  «mall  im^ige  or  head 
>   It    un    ilic    tag    of    a    point    oc 

ei^leta    tac^  to  !ace« ;  pendanu  (*t 

oin.,nients  in  hejd.<*rt-»<.. 
ag-nlB«.  to  acknowicd^r 
a-ROOd.   heartily. 
a-hold    Liv  hfr.  inakc.><i.  ,.    .i...<i 

t  )    the   Wind,  and  keep  ciear    ol 

land. 
aim.    conjecture.     To    cry  Aimt 

to  fH^nnra^,  \o giv*  mtm  ;  to  ^/« 

'** 

■ii« 

■  .    .../<•// 

1^    I'M-     Mii"-n«iiv«  ol  ##</,   wil«ll 
i;ir.i;'.>    "  .'car." 
uIm     - 


AU-huIIuWU  tfmmtr,  Ulc  Mia»> 
Rlii.'holv  '  :».lrrof  Mr»,QuickIf 
II  fMr».QukUy 

allow.  :witi*pru^c  ;  ioIk««»«  :  tk0 
tt'iH.f,  "atand  to  the  )e«vani  o| 
mr 

allowance    approbation 

all-thlUff.  cvct>   »av. 


A  MA  IMON-BA  XQ  UE  T. 


Amaimon,  the  name  of  a  demon, 
ames-ace,  the  lowest  throw  upon 

tneViice. 
amiss,  ruisfortune  ;  fault, 
amort,     ':ic<t  aii  amort. 
anatom.y,  a  skeleton. 
anclior,  an  anchorite. 
ancient,     a    standard    bearer  •    a 

standard. 
ang-el,  bird  of  the  air  *,  a  gold  coin, 

highest  value  ten  shillings. 
1 -nig- lit,   by  night, 
anon,  coming 
ans"wer,  retaliation. 

anfciiropopliag-inian,acannibaL 

antres,  caverns. 

appaid.  satisfied. 

apparent,  heir-apparent. 

appeacb.,  to  impeach. 

appeal,  according  to  its  most  an- 
cient siijnification,  implies  a  ref- 
erence by  name  to  a  charge  or 
accusation,  and  an  offer,  or  chal- 
lenge, to  support  such  charge  by 
the  ordeal  of  single  combat. 

apperil.  peril, 

apple- Jolin,  a  sort  of  apple,  con- 
sidered  to  be  in  perfection  when 

shriveled  and  withered. 

apprehension,  sarcasm. 

approbation,  proof  ;  novitiate. 
approof,  approbation  ;  proof, 
approve,  to  prove  ;  to  confirm  ;  to 

recommend  to  approbation. 
apricock.  an  apricot. 
aqua   vitae,     a   term    for    ardent 

spirits  in  general. 
Aquilon,  the  North-wind. 
Arabian  bi-rd,  the  phoenix. 
arch,  a  chief. 
argal,   a  vulgar  corruption  of  the 

Lit  in  word  €7- go. 
Arg'ier,  the  old  name  for  Algiers. 
arg-o.   a   vulgar  corruption   of   the 

Latin  word  e7-g-o. 
arg-ument,  conversation  ;  subject, 
arm.  take  in  one's  arms. 
aroint.   "  Begone  !'■ 

arras-counterpoints,  counter- 
panes of  arras. 

arrose,  to  sprinkle. 

art  m,  in  theorj-. 

article  of  great yOi  large  compre- 
hension. 

articulate,  to  enter  into  articles  ; 
to  exhibit  in  articles. 

artificial,  artful. 

aspersion,  a  sprinkling. 

"as's''  of  orcat  charge.  Here  a 
quibble  is  intended  betv\  een  as  the 
conditional  particle,  and  ass  the 
beast  of  burden. 


assenablance.  external  aspect. 
assinico.  a  silly,  a  stupid  fellow, 
assistance,  assessors. 

assum'd.  reached;  attained. 

assurance  to  pass,  to  make  » 
conveyance  or  deed.  Deeds  are 
by  law-writers  called  "  The  com- 
mon assurances  of  the  realm," 
because  thereby  each  man's  prop* 
erty  is  assured  to  him. 

assured,  affianced. 

atomies,  atoms. 

atomy  <,a  corruption  of  anatomy)^ 

a  skeleton. 
atone,  to  reconcile;  to  unite. 
attach,  to  arrest. 

attaint,  stain. 

attask'd.  blamed. 

attent,  attentive. 

aunt,  a  good  old  dame ;  a  cant 
term  for  a  loose  woman. 

avised,  for  advised. 

away  luith.  to  bear  with. 

diVJ^fxil  banks,  the  proper  limits  of 
reverence. 

awful  men,  men  who  reverence 
the  laws  and  usages  of  society. 

awkward,    distorted. 

awleSS,  standing  in  awe  of  noth- 
ing ;  not  reverenced. 

ay  me,  the  Italian  aimi. 


baccare,  a  cant  exclamation  sig- 
nifying "Go  back." 

baffle,  to  use  contemptou'^ly. 

Bajazefs  nmte^  the  allusion  in 
this  passage  (where  the  original 
reads  ■' mule")  has  not  yet  been 
explained. 

baldrick.  a  belt. 

iDalk'd.  piled  up  in  balks  or  ridges. 

ballast,  the  contracted  form  of 
bal!a>ted. 

ballow,  a  cudgel . 

balm,  the  oil  of  consecration. 

Banbury  cheese,  a  cream  cheese, 
which  was  proverbiall}'  thin. 

band,  a  bond. 

ban-dog:s,  properly  hand-do^,  so 
called  bec-iuse  on  account  of  their 
fierceness  they  required  to  be 
botind  or  chained,  and  used  morft 
particularly  for  baiting  bears. 

bank'd  their  t^'zuns,  means  most 
probably  "  sailed  past  their  towns 
on  the  banks  of  the  river." 

banquet,  what  we  now  call  a 
dessert.  "  A  running  banquet, 
literally  epeaking.  is  a  hasty  re- 
fresh>nent,  as  set  in  opposition  t«J 
a  reeular  and  f'mtracted  meal^.- 


HI  RRA  SOX-BESTRA  L'O  If  / 


Barbason.  the  name  of  a  demon  : 
ihc  s.ime  as  "  M.»rt>as,  alias  Bar- 

bxrbed.    equipped    with    military 

barbermon^er,  a  fop  who  deaU 

nuicli  with  l>.irhcrs. 

hare.  m,rr  and  nai-cif. 

barful.  full  of  impediments. 

barm,  yeast. 

barn,  a  child. 

barnacles,    multivalve   shell-fish  ; 
anciently   supposed   to  turn  into  a  | 
Solan  goose  ;   sometimes  supposed 
to  grow  on   trees,   and    thence   to  I 
drop    into    the    sea,   and   become  i 
j^cese 

SarrabaS.  invariably  made  short  I 
in    the    second     syllable     by    iht  j 
poetical  writers  of   Shakespeare's 
diys. 

base,  prison-biise,  or  prison-biirs,  < 
— a  rustic  game. 

'b'3.3&  con r/,/>ass,'-cOHr,  Ft.  \ 

bases.  ^  kind  of  embroidered  man- 
tle,   which    hung   down    from   the  i 
middle     to    about    the    knees,    or 
louer,  worn   by  knights  on   horse-  ) 
b.ck.  I 

basilisk,  an  imaginary  creature 
(called  also  sfckatrice),  supposed 
to  kill  by  its  ver>'  look  ;  a  huge 
piece    of    ordnance. 

Oasta.  enough. 

bastard,  a  sweetish  wine  (ap- 
proaching to  the  muscadel  wine  in 
fl.ivor.  and  perhaps  marie  from  a 
bastard  specie*  of  muscadine 
srape). 
bat,  a  cudgel. 

bate,  strife  ;  to  flutter,  to  flap  the 
uin^s.  a  term  in  falconry  ;  to  ex- 
cept; to  blunt;  breeding,  :x^\.  to 
cause  strife. 

batten,  to  grow  fat. 
bauble,    the    licensed     Fool  s    or 
Jcstcr"s  official  scepter. 

3avian— /'■4<'.  I'^'c  I?aboon. 
bavin  wZ/j,  flashing  wits,  Bavin 

is  a  iagot  of   brushwood,   but    the 

word  is  used  sometimes  adjcciively 
bawblingr.  contemptible. 
bawCOCk.  .1  burlesque  term  Of  en- 

.Ic.irineiit,  said  to  be  derived  from 

the  French  bniu  ,-oq. 
bay.    a   principal   compartment    or 

.liviMon    in    the   architectural    ar- 

r  lu^ement  of  a  building. 
bay   rrir'tf:  ^rc  lurtnf  —Bay. 
beadsman,  one  who  prays  for  the 

uelfare  of  another,— a  praycrm.»ii. 


beak,  a  «ir 

head  of   «i 
f'rec4»tle 

bear.  x<>   ^ 

t>crfe<  t     f- 
lave  an   u: 


dy  M  ih« 
.c>»;  lb* 

-    • 
U 

'H 


im  hand,  to  «mu%«  with  (ahc 
tense*. 


1 

equcoiljr 

lu  cJipie^.«  itic  lifi 

!t   M 

in    reality    the     ! 

■      »». 

adaptr!    t  .   ttir 

.nt 

the 

an 

opi- 

..h 

whrn 

.     ff. 

without  |<utiw>t;  oil 

.u  hc;wct.  o( 

taking  his  repast. 

becks.  br.ws. 

become,  t"  adapt  or 

render  fit. 

becoming',  the  i>o\» 
Bedlam.  -- 

er  of   Ktlinc- 

befiT../'' 

to  llC   Ills  ^ 

-  ,'ij 

i.h'cta    //.,,•;«.'.  n.L 

bepaiird.  c.vercd. 

benave.  t..  i;  s- m. 

beldam.  •> 

■-.—  a 

h..^:  ..gr 

be-lee'd.  ^ 

be-mete  i            - 

bemoiled.  bmurr ! 

benefit.  •«  term  d 

bw  :    bcncA- 

ci.iry. 

benison.  blessing. 

bent,  t'.---  "!:"  '-■  ' 

ri^rr    .t    any 

pass. 

lh« 

exi' 

^t; 

the 

t  t* 

dr.»wn   ..s   !..:    .. 

Berffomaak  ./ « 

fter 
ol 

thp    iiniiner    nf 

Hcrg'.iins,  I.,    .\    . 

,:.    UaXf 

l.r!    ,1,^.11.:    I    .    ibr    \ 

rvrli  >a>. 

Bermoothes.  H-mn  •... 

beshrew.  10  cui»«. 

a  mild  form  of 

besonian.    pror*-^ 

iierily     Irilow.      . 

used    in    the  sc^ 

.  or 

needy  vildier  ;"' 

■  ^^ 

came    a    term    .1 

rr;    •                  —"a 

knave,  a  scoundrel 

" 

beaort.  t.-  -mi 
beat,  i-r.x^ 
bested—' 
bestow,  t 
beatraturht. 


i>^ 


BETEEM—BO]]- 


beteem,     to     give     in     streaming 

abundance ;  to  suffer. 
"bettering',  magnifying. 
bevel,  crooked. 

bewray,  to  discover. 

bias,  swelled. 

bid.  endured. 

bide  upon' t— To,  "My  abiding 
opinion  is." 

bigrgren.  a  cap  for  the  head. 

bilbo,  a  sword  (so  called  from  Bil- 
boa,  in  Spain. which  was  famous  for 
its  manufacture  of  sword-blades). 

bilboes,  a  bar  of  iron  with  fetters 
annexed  to  it.  by  which  mutinous 
or  disorderly  sailors  were  anciently 
linked  together  ;  (derived  from 
B 17  boa). 

bill,  a  sort  of  pike  or  halbert,  or 
rather  a  kind  of  brttle-ax  affixed 
to  a  long  staff,  formerly  carried  by 
the  English  infantry,  and  after- 
wards the  usual  weapon  of  watch- 
men. 

tin    been. 

Cird-bolt.  a  short  thick  arrow 
•vith  a  blun.ed  extremity,  for  kill- 
ins:  birds  without  piercing  them. 

birthdom.,  birthright. 

bisson,  blind. 

bitter  sifet'tzn<;^,  an  apple  which 
has  a  compound  taste  of  sweet 
nnd  bitter. 

Black-Monda-y,  Easter-Monday. 

blank,  the  white  in  the  center  of 
the  butts. 

blanks,  a  mode  of  extortion,  by 
which  blank  papers  were  given  to 
the  agents  of  the  crown,  which 
they  were  to  fill  up  as  they  pleased, 
to  authorize  the  demands  they 
chose  to  make. 

blast  in  proof,  burst  in  the  trial. 

bleared  thine  eyne,  imposed  upon 
you 

blench.es.  starts  from  rectitude. 

blind-worm,  a  slo«-worm. 

blister'd  breeches,  breeches  puff- 
ed, swelled  out  like  blisters. 

block,  the  hat  itself  ;  the  shape  or 
fashion    of  a  hat. 

blood,  disposition,  tem.perament, 
to  be  in,  to  be  in  good  condition.      > 

blood-boltered,  besmeared  with 
i)lood. 

bloody,  ill  or  of  the  blood. 

blow,  to  swell. 

blulDber'd.  weeping ;  to  blubber 
did  not  fo'-me'-ly  convey  the  some- 
what ludicrous  idea  which  it  does 
at  present. 

blue-bcttl©  ros^te.  an  allusi'^n  to 


the  dress  of  the  beadle,  which  is 

Shakespeare's  days  was  blue, 
blue-caps,    a    name    of     ridicule 

given  to  the  Scots,  from  their  blue 

bonnets. 
blue  coats,   the  common   dress   of 

serving-men  in  Shakespeare's  time 

and  long  before. 
blunt,  dull,  insensible. 
blurted  at,  held  in  contempt. 
blush  bike  a  biack  dcg.,  to  have  a 

brazen  face. 

board,  to  accost. 

bob,  a  taunt  ;  to  cheat. 

bogrgrler,  a  vicious  womaiu 

bold,  confident. 

holds,  emboldens, 

bolins,    bowlines. 

bollen,  swollen. 

bolt,  an  arrow. 

bolted,  sifted. 

bolters,  sieves. 

boltingr-hutch,   the  wooden    re. 

ceptacle   into  which   the   meal  is 

bolted. 
bombard,  a  large  leathern  vessel 

for  distributing  liquor. 
bombast,  material  for  stuffing  out 

dresses. 

bona-roba,  a  courtesan. 

bond  —  /  know  it  yor  w/_j',  know  it 
to  be  my  bounden  dutj'. 

bonneted,  generally  explained 
"  toi  k  off  their  bonnets";  but 
the  passage  is  very  awkward  and 
obscure. 

book,  one's  studies,  learning. 

boot,  booty  ;  to  enrich  ;  profit  ;  it 
is  tioboot  lit  is  of  no  avail);  Grace 
to  boot  (over  and  above,  in  addi- 
tion") ;   a  make  weight. 

boots — Give  me  net  the,  a  pro- 
verbial expression  signifying  don't 
make  a  laughing-stock  of  me ; 
perhaps  an  allusion  to  the  diaboli- 
cal  torture  of  the  boot. 
j  bore,  capacity. 

bosky,  woody. 

I  bosom,  wish, 
I  boss'd,  embossed,  studied. 
I  botcher,  a  mender  of  old  clothes 
bottle  of  Jiay,  truss  of  hay. 
bottled,     bunch-backed  ;      "  that 
bottled  spider."  means  that  hump* 
ed  or  hunched  venomous  creature. 
bottom,  a  valley  ;  a  ball  of  thread  t 

it  on  vie,  wind  it  on  me. 
bots,  worms  that  breed  in  the  en* 
trails  of  horses  ;  bots  on'i  (a  t 
execration). 
bourn,  a  brook  :  a  boundary 
bo-w    a  yoke. 


BD  V'LfXC-CA.\ 


Uvtwliu^.  sec  holint. 

boy-queller.  boy  killer. 

bi'aboie.  ..  Mjuabble. 

brabblor,  ihc  name  of  a  hound  ;  A 
w  r.iiiglcr. 

brace,  &iAle  of  defence  ;  armor  fur 
lii-:  ;»rin. 

bracb,  from  the  French  trae  or 
/■f  .ii/uf,  or  the  German,  Sract^  • 
s.  ciiiiiig  doj;. 

braid,  perhaps  crafty  or  deceitful ; 
I  >  reproach. 

brain.  t<>  unilersland. 

I'rainish  upprthtHsion,  brain- 
>ick  nii>  'il,  or  Conceit. 

braiu-pan.  the  skull. 

brakes  </'  vii.f,  engine*  r  f  torture. 

brave,  t  >  m.ikc  fine  ;  to  bluster;  a 
b  M>t,  .1  defiance. 

bravery,  fuiery  ;  bravado. 

brawl,  in  its  sij;Milic.ition  of  a 
ci.tiK  c  i-i  from  the  French  bramU, 
iiulicating  a  shaking  or  swinging 
r,i.)ti'.n, 

brazen  tomls^  allusion  *'  to  the 
orn.iiucntini^  the  tombs  of  eminent 
pcp-ons  with  figures  and  inscrip- 
tions on  plates  of  trass.'" 

breach  o/  the  tea,  breaking  of  the 

break,  »</,  to  break  open,  to  carve 
—  UMil  metaphorirnlly  of  opening 
.1  letter;  lirrak  o/'CH  this  capon. 
Open  this  note). 

break,  xvith,  to  open  a  subject  to. 

breast.  ■*■  voice. 

breath,  an  exercise, 
breathe,  to  t.ikc  exercise, 
braathinsr  /'""•.  fmc  for  exercise, 
breech. 'd.  covered. 
breJCilingJ.  //<7/j»-,«  scholar  liable 
to  I..:  ll..j,-i.e.l. 

breed-bate.  ^  causer  of  strife, 
broose.  ihc  gud-fly. 
brief.    ^  lirensr    if    marriage ;     a 
l.tiT;   rife  ;  a  short  writing. 

bringr  o**i^  '"  put  out. 
broach,  to  *pit. 

brock.  -^  hadcer. 

broken  t>tus:.-,  what  we  now  terra 

broker,  :i  K    -between. 

bi'30k— /'/v/'*/,"'' '''^'■.  hawking  at 
.V  .tcr-f..'.vl. 

bruit   ■»  l"iiJ  report. 

b'lbukles.  .«  hot,  h. 

bucking',  t<>  luck  clothes  means 
in  pel  1).  to  w.i-b  tlicni  in  lye,  and 
lic.it  them  wliilc  wet,  wiili  ,\  »ort 
of  ihutcncd  pole  on  a  tabic  or  bUn  k 

bucks,  quan lilies  of  liaen  htuketi 
at  once. 


buckler   !    drfcnd. 

bu    .  .  .»«-  thee  tAe,  yield 

V 

bi.   . 

bu  .  i/oar.l  cT 


:i<.I« 


bui.. 

bully-rook,  a  .'  cc  r,,^.  tLcaii.g 

I      sharper. 

I  bunsr.  .» -^  ...i<-r. 

bin    i- 


tht    ■..^■■.       :•, 

end  of    the 
bi. 


bU88,  l>ki-.s. 

buttery-bar,  the  place  in  palacca 

and  in  k^C'*^  houses  whence  pf^ 

visions  were  di»|jen»ed. 
I  buxom,  lively. 
buzzard,  a  bretle. 
l)y,  an  abbreviation  of  m^  (which 

I        Srel. 

by'r /rtifw,  by  our  little  Lady. 


Caddis-gttrter,  worsted  riband  or 

j:allo..n. 

cade  ('Z /«'•"■.■'»/»«*''»»'»''/ of  bet* 

I       r.n^.. 

Icadeut,  falling, 
cage,   w.is  foimerly  a  term  (or  a 
Cain-colored,  aandy-red. 
Caliban,  metathesis  from  Citmmi- 
I      /*,./. 

'  caliver.  a  h-md-crtin. 
calkins,  the:  .    .  >    ...   .v..« 

••hi'S   ..re  t  "I 

to     i.tevrnt     '  ,- 


a  jjuc. 


C.I  •    .  lively  dance  ) 

to  d«nc«   a 

rMrs.guiddy 

Cu;.>...  .;  ' 

oanker.  .»  t Jicj'iojr;  the  dog  rMa. 

Cannibals.  Tutors   blundci   im 


CA  XS  TICK—  CHILD. 


canstick,  a  candlestick. 

cantle,   a  corner. 

cantons,  cantos. 

canvass,  to  toss,  as  in  a  blanket. 

Oapa.ble,  qualified  as  heir  ;  com- 
prehensive ;  susceptible. 

capitulate  agaijist  2<s,  combine. 

captciin.  (as  an  adjective)  chief. 

captious,  capable  of  receiving. 

carack,  a  large  ship  of  burden. 

caraways,  comfits  or  confections 
jnade  v%ith  carawaj'-seeds. 

jarbonado,  a  piece  of  meat  cut 

croas-wise  for  broiling. 

2arcanet,  a  necklace. 

Cardecu.  -pr o^erW  guar i  d^e'cu,  the 
fourth  part  of  the  gold  [French] 
crown. 

Carduus  denedicties,  or  blessed 
thistle  ;  an  herb  supposed  to  have 
singular  healing  property. 

carlot,  a  rustic. 

carpet  knights,  knights  dubbed  at 
court  by  mere  favor, — not  on  the 
field  of  battle  for  their  military- 
exploits. 

Carpet-w£»K^^rj,  effeminate  per- 
sons. 

carpets,  table-covers  of  ornamental 
tapestry. 

carry  coals,  to  put  up  with  insults. 

jarry  out  a  side,  to  carry  out  a 
game  of  cards  with  success. 

3arve,  used  to  describe  some  par- 
ticular form  cf  action — some  sign 
of  intelligence  and  favor. 

case,  a  pair  ;  skin. 

cassocks,  loose  cutward  militarj^ 
coats. 

cast,  to  d'-mic  •  used  with  a 
quibble  between  its  two  senses, 
"to  throw"  iMid  "to  vomit;  to 
empty. 

Castiliano  vnlto,  *'put  on  your 
Castilian  countenance, that  is,  your 
grave  solemn  looks." 

castle,  a  close  helmet,  which  cov- 
ered the  whole  head. 

cat-o'-mountain,  a  wild-cat. 

Catalan,  properly  a  native  of 
Cataia  or  Cathay,  i,  e.  China,  is 
supposed  to  have  become  a  cant 
term  for  a  thief  or  sharper. 

catlings,  lute  strings. 

Cautel.  craft. 

cautelous,   insidious  ;  cautious.  _ 

caviare  to  the  general.  Caviare  is 
the  roe  of  a  kind  of  s.urgeon,  and 
of  o'her  fish,  pickled,  salted,  and 
dried,  which  came,  and  still  comes 
from  Russia:  Hamlet  means  that 
tlie  play    in  question   was  of   too  I 


high  a  relish  for  the  palates  of  th 

multitude. 
cease,  to  die. 
censure,  to  pass  opinion  on  ;  opin 

ion. 
ceremonies,  omens  or  signs;  hon 

orary  ornaments. 
'cerns,  concerns. 
Certes,  certainly, 
cess— C'w^  cf  all.  Out  of  all  meas 

ure. 
Cestron,  a  cistern, 
chalic'd,  having  cups. 

chamberers,  men  of  intrigue. 

chambers,  small  pieces  of  ord* 
nance. 

channel,  a  kennel. 

chape,  the  metal  part  at  the  end  oi 
a  scabbard,  sometimes  used  fo 
the  hook  or  loop  at  the  top  of  a 
scabbard. 

chapmen,  buyers  ;  sellers. 

character,     handwriting ;   to 
scribe. 

charactery,  what  is  written. 

characts,  charactv-^rs. 

chare,  or  char,  a  job  or  task -work. 

char'd. — A  IPs,  All  is  dispatched. 

charg-e-hoiise,  a  common  school. 

Charles'  zuain.  The  constellation 
Ursa  Major  ; — according  to  some, 
a  corruption  of  Charles  or  CJiurPs 
[/.  e.  rustic's]  ivain  /  according 
to  others,  the  constellation  was  so 
named   in  honor  of  Charlemagne. 

charneco,  a  wine  called  after 
L'harneca,  a  town  in  Portugal. 

chase,  an  object  of  chase  ;  By  this 
kind  oj"  chase,  "  By  this  way  of 
following  the  argument."  Achace 
at  tennis  is  that  spot  where  a  ball 
falls,  beyond  which  the  adversary 
must  strike  his  ball  to  gain  a  point 
or  chace. 

Chaudron,  part  of  the  entrails  of 
an  animal. 

cheater — A  tame,  a  Do«r  spiritles.' 
or  harmless  rascal  ;  an  e-cheator. 

check,  a  term  in  falconn,-,  applied 
to  a  liawk  when  she  forsakes  her 
proper  game,  and  follows  some 
other  of  inferior  kind  that  cros^ea 
her  in  her  flight. 

cheer,  countenance. 

cherry-pit.  a  game. 

cheveril,  kid-leath«r. 

chewet,  a  noisy  chattering  bird,  a 

chide,  to  sound. 
chiding",  noise,  cry  of  hounds, 
child,  in  O.  E  ,  denoted  a  youth, 
e-pecially    one  of  high  birth,  ba- 


aiiL  nrxG-  com  mi  t. 


fore  he  w.i-i  advanced  to  the  I'oiior 
:-f    kiiiglithood  ;  in  runiances  and 
D  illads  it  frequently  is  equivalent 
to  *'  knight." 
Childing'    autumn,    fruitful     au- 

chill.  I  will. 

chopine,  an  enormously  high  clog, 
which  was  A'orn  by  the  ladies  of 
Sp.-iin. 

choppinR-.  changing. 

Christendoms,  Christian   names. 

christom  t  /.'/.'</,  a  child  ju>l  chris- 
trnvd. 

chuck.  .1  chicken. 

chuff.  A  co.irs-  unmannered  clown. 

cide.  to  liociiic. 

cinque-pace,  a  d..nce,  the  steps 
■)f  which  were  regulated  by  the 
.lumber  five. 

circuit,  a  diadem. 

circumstances,  detail;  conduct. 

Cital.  a  recital. 

cite,  to  incite. 

citizen,  townbred,  delicate. 

cittern-head,  grotesque  carved 
heads  with  which  citterns  were 
usually  ornamented. 

Civil,  decent,  solemn. 

civil  orange,  a  Sc-vt7/tr  orange. 

clack-dish,  or  clap-dish.  a 
wooden  dish,  or  bo.x,  carried  by 
beggars  ;  it  had  a  movable  cover, 
which  they  clacked  to  attract 
notice. 

claw,  to  fl.itter. 

cleanly,  cleverly. 

clear,  pure  ;  a  clfar-story  is  a  term 
in  Gothic  architecture  for  an 
upper  story  or  row  of  windows  in 
a  church,  hall,  <S:c.  ;  seems  to 
have  been  used  in  a  variety  of 
ways  for  any  metho(i  of  admitting 
light  into  the  upper  part*  of  a 
building. 

clepe,  to  call, 

cliff,  a  key  in  music. 

cling:,  siirink  or  shrivel. 

clinquant,  glittering. 

clip.  K'  embrace. 

close,  secret. 

closure,  an  end. 

clout,  the  nail  or  pin  of  the  target. 

cloy,  to  claw. 

clubs,  was   originally  the   popul.-»r 

cry  to  call  forth  the  London  ap- 
)reniices. 
clutch,  to  contract. 
coach-fellow,  .i  horse  that  draws 

in  the  same  carriage  with  another, 

— an  associate. 
eoast.  to  advance,  i 


cock,  a  corruption  of.  or  euphem- 
ism for  Cod :  cink  and  pit— By, 
By  God  and  the  prayer  book  :  to  ttf 
cock  on  horp  :  a  phrase  deri<  ling 
the  excess  of  mirth  and  jollity  . 
also  a|iplicd  to  insolence  of  iio, 
giiage  cir  bearing. 

cockatrice  an  imaginary  crcatrt 
(callcJ  a. so  Itisilisk),  supuosco  ic 
kill  by  its  very  look. 

cockerel,  a  young  cock. 

cockle,  a  weed;  the  cockle-sic  . 
w.rn  usually  in  the  front  of  tii. 
Ii.<t  w  is  the  badge  of  a  pilg  im 

cock- light,  twilight. 

cockney,  there  is  hardly  a  doubt 
that  it  originates  in  an  L'lopi;.i» 
region  of  indolence  and  luxur>', 
formerly  denominated  the  country 
of  co.iiignc:  appears  in  the 
Protiiptorium  to  imply  simply  a 
child  sp.  ilcd  by  too  much  indulg- 
ence; Chaucer  uses  the  wo  d  ;sa 
term  of  coniempt  ;  and  it  occa- 
sionally signifies  a  little  cock, 
coqiiinator. 

COClf  shut  ti***/;  an  expression 
signifying  "twilight." 

Cofl^n.  the  raised  crust  of  a  pie. 

CO^,  to  cheat  ;   to  load  a  die. 

COlsn,  a  corner  stone. 

coil,  turmoil. 

COistrel.  a  paltry  groom,  one  only 
fit  to  carrj'  arms,  but  not  to  use 
them. 

collect,  to  gather  by  ob.servation. 

collection,  a  conclusion,  a  dedi.c- 

COllied,  blackened. 

COllop,  u>cd    metaphorically    \y  -^ 

father     to    his   child,   as   being   - 

portion  of  bis  flesh. 
Colme-kill,  the  cell  or  chapt'  *  i 

St.  C.-luniba. 

Colme*s-inch.  the  Isle  r(   Coi 

uinh.i. 
COloquintida,   the  bmer  cucu  r. 

colors,  deceits/  />rtr  ho  colors,  fear 

III)  enemy. 
colt,  nay  ><'ungster.  to  fool. 
COmbinate  husband ;  Contracte<» 

h-i^b.m.l 

combined,  bound. 

come'"''.  I  Ofay. 

comfortable,  ready  to  give  coa^ 

l.irt 
COmforting^,  cnc-ruraging. 

commend,  f  offer. 
commission,  authority. 
commit,  app  led  particularly  to  ■» 
lawful  acts  of  love. 


COMMODITY  '—COUNTER. 


coznraodity,  profit. 
-COraiUOnty;    Slys     blunder      for 

comedy . 
compact,  composed  ;  leagued, 
companion,  a  term  of  contempt, 

equ.valeiic  to  "fellow.  ' 

company,  a  companion. 

COm.parative— equal,  or  rival  in 
anv  thing  :  fruitful  in  similes. 

compassed  cape,  a.  round  cape  ; 
— crest,  an  arched  crest; — ivin- 
dow.  a  bow-window. 

';Ompassionate,  lamenting. 

competitor,  a  partner  ;  a  confed- 
erate. 

•complement,  according  to  its 
ongmal  meaning,  the  trappings  or 
ornamental  appendages  of  a  char- 
acter. 

complices,  accomplices. 

comply,   to  compliment. 

compose,  to  agree. 

composition,  an  agreement ;  con- 
.^iscency. 

composture,  a  compost. 

COm.posure,  a  combination. 
COmpromis'd,  mutually  agreed. 
COmptible.  sensitive. 
con,  io  con  thanks  exactly  answers 

the  French  scavoir  grJ ;  to  con  is 

to  know. 
conceal,  a  blunder  of    Simple  for 

reveal, 
conceit,  imagination  ;     a   fanciful 

gewgaw  ;  to  conceive. 
concent,  accord. 

concernancy,  tendency. 

conclusion,  an  experiment  ; 
sedate  determination. 

COnCoHnel,  perhaps  the  (cor- 
rupted) title  or  beginning  or  bur- 
den of  some  Italian  song. 

Concupy,  concupiscence. 

condition,  temper,  quality ;  a 
prutession. 

COndolement,  expression  of  grief, 

conduct,  a  conductor. 

confidence,  a  blunder  of  Mrs. 
Quickly  and  of  the  Nurse  for  con- 
ference. 

SOnfijiers,  borders. 

confound,  to  consume  ;  to  de- 
stroy ;  to  annoy  or  perplex. 

congest,  to  heap  together. 

COngreeted,  saluted  reciprocally. 

conjecture,  suspicion. 

conjurations,  earnest  entreaty. 

conscience,  consciousness. 

consent,  a  conspiracy. 

consider,  to  requite. 

consign,  to  seal. 

-consist,  to  stand  oa. 


COnsolate,  to  console, 
consort,    a   company  ;    a  ban'^  ol 
musicians  ;    a  concert ;   a   febiw* 

ship. 

conspectuities,  sights. 

constancy,  consistency. 
constantly,  certainly,  firmly. 
contain,  to  retain. 

contem.ptible,  contemptuous. 
continent,     that   which    conta'  <.s 
any   thing:    is   contained  in   axiy 

thing. 

continuance,  continuity. 

COntinuate,  uninteirupted. 

contract,  promise  of  future  mar- 
riage. 

contrive,  to  pass  away,  to  spend. 

contriving,  managing,  plotting. 

control,  compulsion  ;  to  confute. 

convent,  to  summon,  to  cite  ;  to 
assemble,  to  serve. 

conversation,  behavior. 
COnvertite,  a  convert. 
convey,  to  manage  secretly, 
conveyance,  dexterity  ;  juggling 
artifice. 

conveyers,  jugglers 

convince,  to  conquer ;  to  con- 
vict. 

convive,  to  feast  together. 

cony-catch,  to  deceive. 

cooling-card,  a  card  so  decisive 
as  to  cool  the  courage  of  the  ad- 
versarj-.  Met.  Something  to  damp 
or  overwhelm  the  hopes  of  an 
expectant. 

COpatain  hat,  a  hat  rising  to  a 
cop,  top,  or  head,  a  hat  with  a 
high  crown. 

cope,  the  canopy  of  heaven ;  to 
reward  :  to  encounter  ;  embrace. 

COpesmate,  a  companion. 

copy,  a  theme  ;  lease. 

COragio,  an  exclamation  of  en- 
couragement. 

COrantO,  a  very  lively  and  rapid 
dance. 

corky,  drv-,  withered. 

corrigible,  having  the  power  to 
correct  ;    subject  to  correction. 

COrrival,  a  competitor. 

COSiers,  cobblers. 

costard,  a  head  ;  a  large  kind  of 
apple. 

COtCKi,   overtook. 

COt-quean,  a  man  who  busies  him- 
self too  much  in  female  affairs. 

counsel,  secrecy. 

countenance,  hypocrisy,  treat- 
ment, patronage  ;  to  entertain. 

counter,  a  piece  of  false  coin  used 
to    cast  accounts  with.    To  ^un 


COJ.S'TLRFEir-DErRA  IT.. 


counur  i^  to  luisiakc  ihc  coui>c 
of  ilic  K-"!'»--,  •  t  to  turn  and  pur- 
sue the  Ij.ii  kw.irJ  trail. 

counterfeit,  a  portrait ;  »ynony- 
inous  with  ili\  a  pittc  c,f  fal»€ 
money  ;  couut.r/,it prtttHtmtnt, 
mimic  representation, 

court  'ii)ly-;L>tttfr,  fl   ttery. 

C0urt3hip,  clcKiinLc  of  Uhavjor. 

COVOnt,  a  convent. 

cover,  t  .  j.rtp.irc  the  table. 

■iOvetOUSneSS,  intense  dciire  of 
c-v.dli,,^. 

^OWl-Staflf,  a  stafi  used  for  carr>-- 
iiig  a  l.nryc  tub  or  basket,  vkiih 
f.v  .  l..i!.dlrs. 

coy,  !  >  cnrcss. 

crab,  a  wild  apple. 

crack,    an    arch,    lively    boy  ;     to 

Crack-h.erap,  a  gallows-bird, 
crafts,  <-r.. lumen. 

crank,  to  wind. 

crants,  a  crown  ;  a  garland. 

Crare,  a  small   vessel  of   war,  and 

.  I  l.-,:rJcn. 
cravens,  makes  cowardly, 
create,  compounded, 
credent,        credible  ;        enforcing 

1  rciit. 
crascive,  incrcasinp. 
cressets,  a  beacon  light. 
Cl'iop,  curled, 
crop,  to  briny  forth, 
cross,  a  pici.e  cf  money,  so  called 

I    c.iuic  a  cross  was  stamped  on  it. 
CrO"V-keepcr,   a  l>oy  employed    I  > 

M  ire  the   cruws    Irom    the    torn- 

ficlJs. 

crow^n-imperial,  a  hly. 

crowncr,  a  croner. 
crownet,  the  diminutive  of  rr<n«'#». 
Cin.iel  ^irti-rs,  a  quibble  on  cru,l 
anJ    ofA-dy    i.   e.    worsted  ;    kce 

cni3adoe8,  gold  coins. 

Ci'y  ii::n  :  sec  aim.  A:c. 

cry,   a  pack  ;  a  company  ;    cry  on, 

t  )  exclaim. 
CMbiculo,  a  chamber. 
CUOkoo-buds,  lesser  celandine,  or 

l)ilt:-\\"ri. 
CuUion,  a  despicable  fellow. 

cunninq-,  kiiowleiv;c.  skill. 
curiosity,    an    ove.-m   c    kcrupu- 

1  ii-iK's,  111  iii.iniicrs,  drc»A,  At. 
'currents,  oi .  urrenccs. 

cnrsorary,  cursory. 

curst,  slirewish.  fierce,  |.«nre;»c. 
OUrtal  </'r.  a  common  df  g— <!»»•/,»/ 

i.',«i,  a  docked  bay   horse— «»»r//*- 

ojc,  a  cutlass. 


cuatard-cofikn,   ii  c  x^'.^A  <n*»% 

.t.  .U^tald 

ouatomer,  •»  «' 


'I 


cut, 

emtio. 
cypniH, 

tfan»p.tr 


,  daff.  to  dofl. 

I  Dan,    lord.    ina»ler— <omiplioa  ok 

l\miHut. 

I  danger,  debt. 

Dansken,  Danes, 
dare,  •»  'lefiai.ce. 
darkling,  it<  .iurkne»i. 

darnel.  ••  •»-' 

darrai*.!..  i*  sr.  armjr.o* 

V  !  It  .ttle. 

daub, 

day-bod.     -^  •■<■ 
day-woman,  a  dairywoouub 
deal,  I  V"-. 
dear.  •     •      -.     •'     -    — 


dearth. 

death'a-man,  »n  exccutiuner. 

debate,  •   .  tnu.  n. 

dr-k,  •      -  !». 


-1      •.    i 

a-        ^ 

d 

1 

d 
tl 

a 

dofenaible,  un  .wutij; 

.  t   .'.^teiisr. 

d'^*'  ■ '     ■' 

d 

l1 


.1 

tl 

tK. 

demeriUi, 


mailumigk 


10 


DEPRIl  'E—EFTES  T. 


daprive,  to  disinherit. 
d.cil'11,   1    iie'y,  drear)', 
darog-ate,  degraded. 
dasorved,  deserving. 
d33pora.t3,  confident. 
dotect,  ti  display. 
determiuate,     ended,     out     of 

date.     Ihe  term  is  used  in  legal 

conveya   ce. 

<5.8terinine,  to  end. 

dstest,  a  blunder  lot  protest . 
Dicty-ina,  title  for  Diana, 
iiffsreiice,  an  heraldic  term  :    dis- 

tin;:ion.  I 

differing-,  unsteady. 
diffuse,  t  )  disorder.  [ 

digression,     a     deviation     from 

^';r:ue.  | 

diminutives,  verj'  small  pieces  of 

disable,  to  impair;  to  disparage.       | 

disclose,  to  hatch :  ^vhen  the  \ 
young  just  peeps  through  the  I 
shell.  ' 

discontenting,  discontented. 

discourse,  reason. 

disdained,  disdainful. 

disease,  trouble. 

disedg-'d — Be.  Having  the  edge  of 

appetite  taken  off. 

disliabited,  dislodged. 

dishonesty,  inchastity. 

dislike,  to  displease. 

dislimns,    obliterates    what     was 

berure  limned. 
dismes,  tenths. 

dismount,  draw. 

disnatur'd,    devoid     of     natural 

aitecti'  n.  .  i 

dispark'd,   a  legal  term,  and  sig-  ' 

nifies  to  divest  a  park. 
dispatcll'd,  suddenly  bereaved, 
dispong-e,  to  discharge. 
dispose,  disposition. 
disposer— .1/)',    my    merry,    free- 

sp   ken  damsel. 
disputable,  disputatious, 
dispute,  to  reason  upon. 

dissemble,  to  disguise. 
dissembling',    the   reverse   of    to 

Tcscmh'e. 
dissembly,     Dogberry's    blunder 

f  r  assc7)ibly . 
distain,  to  sully  by  contrast, 
distemper,  predominance    of  pas- 

>ina  ;   int'ixication. 

distemperature,  perturbation. 

distractions,  detachments. 

distrain,  to  seize. 

dividable,     distant     from      each 

other. 
division.  vari::tions  in  music 


do  yne  right,  do  me  justice,  a  chal< 
lengc  to  drink  a  bumper ;  dt 
•withal — I  could  not^  1  could  not 

help  it. 

dog'-apes,  dog-faced  baboons. 

dog's  of  zuar,  Famine,  Sword,  and 
I-  ire, 

dole,  grief ;  an  allotment,  distribu- 
tion. 

dolour,  dollar, 

dotant,  a  dotard. 

double,  deceitful. 

doilbt,  fear  ;  to  fear. 

doucets,  the  testes  of  a  deer  ;  also 
do-L'scts. 

dout,  to  do  out ;  to  extinguish. 

dO"wle,  particle  of  down  in  a 
featlier. 

dO'Wn-g'y  ved,  hanging  d  wn  like 
the  loose  cincture  which  con- 
fines the  fetters  round  the  arkles. 

draff,  the  refuse  of  any  sort  of 
food  ;  brewers'  grains. 

dreadfully,  with  dread. 
;  dress,  to  prepare. 
j  drollery,  a  puppet-show ;  a  pic- 
tuie  or  sketch   of  some  scene  of 
I       low  humor. 

drug's,  drudges. 

drumble,  to  be  slow. 

dudg'eon,  haft  or  handle. 

due,  to  endue. 

duke,  a  leader,  a  general. 

dull,  soothing. 

dump,  the  term  for  a  melancholy 
strain  in  music  ;  also  a  kind  of 
dance. 

dup,  to  open. 

durance,  a  kind  of  stuff,  sometimes 
cal'ed  fverlasti7ig :  a  robe  o/ 
durance  was  a  cant  term,  implying 
imprisonment. 

E. 

eag'er,  sour,  sharp,  keen. 
eaningr  tijne,  time  of  bringing  forth 

young. 
eanlingrs,      young      lambs      just 

dropped. 

ear,  to  till. 
earing:,  a  plowing. 

easy,  inconsiderable. 

eclie,  to  eke  out. 

ecstasy,  alienation  of  mind. 

Edward  shoT'cl-boards,  the  broad 
shillings  of  Edward  VI..  used  for 
playing  at  the  game  of  sho-»el' 
board. 

effects,  intended  deeds. 

effuse,  an  effusion. 

eftest,  quickesU 


EGAL-FACT. 


egal.  '--qual. 

egma,        (Jost;ird's      blunder       (ir 

eisel,  vinegar. 

eke.  also. 

eld  c.i.l  age 

element,  initiation. 

element,  the  sky. 

elf.  to  <-nt;iii)^l>-  ;  to  mat  together. 

emballingr.   the   carrying  the  ball 

embarquements.  cmbar.;oe«. 

ermbossed.  a  hunting  icmi,  prop- 
erly appliel  to  a  deer  when  foani- 
in^  at  the  mouth  from  fatigue; 
swollen. 

embowol,  t)  eviscerate. 

embrasures,  embraces. 

em.brewed,  drenched  m  blood, 
emmew,  mew  up,   (a  term  in  fal- 

empale.  to  encircle. 

emperial,  the  Clown's  blunder  for 
t  Hi f'cror, 

empery,  sovereigr*  command ;  a 
klii.;dMin. 

emulation,  malicious  riv.dry  or 
1.  intention. 

enactures,  actions,  effects. 

encounter,  unwarrantable  famili- 
arity. 

endear'd.  bound, 
enemy,  the  Devil. 

enfeoffed,  gr.inted  out  as  a  fcofi  or 

c-:ue;  gave  up. 
enforce    with,    to    press    with    a 

.  har-e. 

eng-ine.  tho  r.»ck. 

eng-ines,  genius,  wits. 

engross;  to  fatten ;  to  g.4thcr  to- 

^^.:her. 
engrossments,  accumulations 
enkindle,  to  incite, 
ensconce,  to  protict  or  cover  as 

u  ith  .1  sconce. 

enseamed.  greasy,  filthv. 
ensear,   or  enscre,  to  dry  up ;  to 

ni.ike  sterile. 

entame.  to  tame. 

entertain,  t)  receive  into  service. 

entertainment"     the     state    of 

l.(  '.n;;  in  mihi.iry  3ay. 
entitled,  ennobled. 

entreat,  t'>  treat :  to  entertain. 
envious.  m.iUrlous. 

en^v^heel.  to  encompa.s*. 
Epliesian.    a    cant    term,    which 

seems  to   h.ivebeen   cquivalcnl  to 

tc.pr,  jolly  companion. 
equal,  impartial. 
Ercles,  Hercules, 
errinfir.  w.inderinjj. 


LJuMarf   IC 


orst.  i  <■■■  ^r!; 
erynjfofji.     i   •    '•' 

.  e8cai>o  -  ;    :  ic*  :ucm. 

I  fSCillXMl     •        UK, 

,  e8cotc«l   i  •   1. 
espeniiicc   !'>pe. 
espials,  --i'lc* 

estate.  In^h  rank. 

esteem,  rr.  kunin^  rr  e^tlmsi^ 

estimation. kc:u.<.. 

estridire    •"   -I'l-  >>. 

eterne.  ctcn.ai 

even  (  'I'j.-t.im.  fellow  c  hri*ita«. 

even-pleach'd.     evenly     inis^ 

twmr.l. 
ever-amon^.  ever  at  intcrvalw 
examin'd  •'    i*--!. 
excrement.  >' •  •    '  ••ar!. 

executors.  »  ^r     r.^    :.r:>. 
exeaipt      >-;  .ir.il-  ■.  p.i:led 

exercise.  -« '•'-'■•■■■  «. 
exhale.  «  •  <'.:•*  -it. 
exhaust,  i  ■  «!   '■»  i  rtti. 
exhibition.  ■•:i  alluwaDce,  a  p«». 

exiK'ent.  an  extremity,  fcn  enj. 
exion.    the    llo»tcv»*t   blundrr    for 

exorciser.  a  person  who  cjn  rat*« 

-;    ri" '  one  who  can  lay  ibcMK 

ex  *  ration. 

e->.  expectation,   haaU  I 

exi"uifiil    rv;>rditiou». 

expense,  cxj^nduur*. 
expire,  i  •  «-•  n.Ui.lc. 
expuls'd.  c«;T:ir,! 
exsufflicat«  "*■  •'<-"• 

extend,    t  >  rvim.l   the  pTAlte  «M  a 

;  r;s   ,,  ;  to  fcciic  (a  Uw  icm>^ 
extent,  a  seizure, 
extern,  external, 
extirp,  I  >  rxtin>a'e. 
extrauKht. '■»;ij  tf.i. 
extrexnity.  ibcutm.-!'  f  ralwaity. 
eyases,   you* n  hawk.*  jau  lakea 

(r    :n  th''   n<-\t. 

eyas-musket.  •  y«««»f  »n»l«  "f^ 

r    «  li.«»  IC. 
eye.   prrs«nc«, 

eyne.  cyev 


face,   'i*   "" 
face- royal 


>{;:. 


yA  C TIONA  R  Y—FOO  T-CL  O  TH. 


factionary    one   of  a  faction,  an 

;  dhcreti.. 
factious,  active ;  urgent, 
fadgre,  to  suit,  to  agree. 
fading-S,  a  dance. 

fair-betrothed,     honorably    af- 

tianced. 

fairing",  making  fair. 

faibll'd,  possessed  of  credibility, 
credited. 

f  aitors.  vagabonds. 

fall,  to  let  fall. 

fallow,  light  brown,  with  a  yellow 
or  reddish  tinge. 

false,  to  falsify. 

familiar,  a  demon  attendant  on 
a  witch  or  conjuror. 

fancy,  love. 

fang-,  to  gripe. 

fang-led.  gaudy,  trifling. 

fantastical,  imaginary. 

fantasticoes,  fantastic,  coxcomb- 
ical persons. 

fap,  drunk. 

far.  extensively. 

farce,  to  stuff. 

fardel,  a  burden. 

f ar-fet,  far-fetched.  _ 

fartuoTlS,  Mrs.  Quicklj'-'a  blunder 
tor  virtuous. 

f asliions— 77/^,  The  farcy,  a  dis- 
ease in  horses. 

iatig"ate,  made  weary. 

fault,  misfortune. 

favour,  countenance,  appearance, 

±-XY~By  my.  By  jny  faith. 

fear,  to  fear  for  ;  to  terrify  ;  reason 
lor  fear. 

f  2arful,  timid. 

fe.at.  d -.xterous,  neat. 

fe.ated,  formed. 

feature,  form,  person  in  general. 

feda.ry,  and  federary,  colleague, 
coiitederate. 

feeder,  a  servant. 

■fse-f arm,  a  grant  of  lands  in  fee, 
that  is,  forever,  reserving  a  cer- 
tain rent. 

£3e-simple,  to  us  and  our  heirs 
forever. 

iell,  skin. 

fell  of  hair^  skin  covered  with 
h.iir. 

fellow,  a  companion,  an  equal. 

feilowly,  sympathetic. 

fennel,  an  emblem  of  flattery, 

fere,  a  companion,  a  mate. 

fescue,  a  small  wire,  by  which 
t  io>e  who  teach  to  read  point  out 
the  letters. 

f  estinate,  quick, 
fet.  fefched 


fetch,  of  warrant— A  ^  a  warranted 

device. 

fettle,  to  prepare  •  to  put  in  order. 

few — In,  In  few  words. 

fico,  fig. 

fierce,  precipitate,  excessive. 

fig-hts,  the  waist-cloths  that  hang 
round  about  the  ship  in  a  fight,  to 
hinder  the  men  from  being  seen  by 
the  enemy. 

fig-ures,  pictures  created  by  im- 
agination. 

file,  to  polish  ;  to  defile  ;  to  keep 
equal  pace  ;   a  number,  a  list. 

fill-horse,  shaft-horse. 

fills,  shafts  of  a  cart  or  wagon. 

^ndi  forth,  to  find  t)ut. 

fine,  a  conclusion  ;  to  end  ;  embel- 
lish ;  full  of  finesse. 

firag-O,  a  corruption  for  virago. 

fire-drake,  a  meteor  ;  a  sort  of 
fire-work  ;  a  person  with  a  red  nose. 

fire-new,  bran-new. 

firk.  seems  to  mean  "  beat." 

first,  noblest. 

fishmong-er,  a  cant  terra  for  a 

wencher. 
fit,  a  grimace  ;  a  part  or  division  of 

a  song. 
fitchew,  a  polecat. 
fitly,  exactly. 
fives,  inflammation  of  the   parotid 

elands  in  horses. 
fixure.  fixture. 

flap-drag-on,  some  small,  com- 
bustible  body,   fired   at   one   end, 

and  put  £*float  in  a  glass  of  liquor. 
flap-jacks,  pancakes. 
flaunts,  fineries. 
flaw,  a  sudden  and  violent  blast  ot 

wind;  a  stormy  tumuit  ;  a  sudden 

commotion  of  mind  ;  small  blades 

of  ice. 
fleet,  to  float. 
fleeting",  inconstant. 
fleshment.   pride,  encouraged   by 

a  successful  attempt. 
flew'd,  having  large  hangingyf^wi 

or  chaps. 
flirt-grills,   wenches    ot    light   be* 

havior. 
flote,  flood. 

fluxive,  flowing  with. tears. 
foin,  to  push,  to  thrust,  in  fencing, 
foison,  plenty,  store. 
folly,  depravity,  wantonness. 
fond,  to  dote  ;  foolish  ;  silly. 
tool—foor,  a  sort   of   term   ot  e»« 

dcrarment. 
foot,  to    seize  with    the  foot ;    to 

kick  ;  to  tread  ;  tc  set  foot  on. 
foot-cloth»    a    housing    of    cloth. 


lOR-ClLD/.D. 


la 


haiiyia^;   down  on   both  nides  of  a 

horse. 
for,  because  of. 
for,  -H'/iy,  because. 
forbid,  under  a  curne. 
force.  Of,  of  necessity  ;  to  regard  ; 

to  stuff  ;  lo  strengthen  ;  perforce. 

fordo,  to  uiulo. 

fore-end.  the  e.iHy  part. 
foreK-Oers,  proKmilors. 

forehand.  prcviMns. 
forehand-shaft,    an    arrow    j.ar- 

ticul.irly      formed     for     khooling 

straight  forward. 
forfeit,  to  transgress, 
forfend,  lo  farl)i<i  ;  to  avert 
forRetive.  inventive. 
fork,    a    barbed    arrow  ;    a    forked 

toiigiir. 

forked,  horned. 

formal,   retaining   the   proper  and 

cs-enti.il  characteristic. 
forslow.  to  delay, 
forspent,  exhausted, 
forespoke.  gainsaid, 
forthcoming',  in  custody, 
forthrig-ht.  a  straight  path. 
foily.  .1  ;:rcat  many. 

forwearied.  worn  out. 

fosset.  f.iiicct. 

foul,  nJy. 

found-/ *'«•//,  of  known  excellence. 

foxship,  cunning. 

fracted    broken. 

fractions,  abrupt  remarks. 

frame.  <riicr. 

frampal.yr<i////t;/i/,   peevish,  vcx- 

FrancisCO— -1/)',  My  Frfnchm»n. 
frank.  ..  -ly. 
franklin,  a  freeholder. 
Frateretto,  a  fiend 

free,  liberal  ;  guiltless. 

frets,   the   stops  of  instruments  of     (Ceui 


fumiter  or  /•  m  it^ry,  •  v««<l  , 
mon  in  corii-fleld*. 

furnaces,  ihro«r»  out  m  Crc 

fiirii.i.  c. 

fumishinic*.  t^mpln. 

fuat.  i<   K''  ^  muuidy. 
fuBtilarlan.  •  low  term  oT 


O.      • 

ffaberdine,  a  coarse  : 

k;..rnir,.i. 

jad— Z^c'nr  V^.H  ihf.   i>  -r  X ... 

drrdy.  while  ih  ■  i,..,  ..  I 

g-ain-^rivitiw         ,:iv«j>fc 
ga.it. 

trallii :  :if ,  Ll^mtns.  in 


lively  da i»c«. 


lively  < 

•  t  iK« 


galliaid  .>  > 
galliaases. 


Rallimaufry,  a  »ir*jigc  uecJlry. 

K-allow.  !     ^carc. 

Ualloway    »».».<i.    comm-.n    h*ik- 

gallow^la»aea,        )  <- .  s   .rmrd 

(.,..!  ^.,T,;Irr^  i.|   Ir«ian.l  ,*i.o  <>1  ibe 

Uestcrn  Isle*. 
g-allowB,   a  rogue  (one  dc»crrin( 

the  gallow*). 
gramester,  a  frolick^ome.  advaR. 

lurous  iK:r»on  :    a  wo^  ;  a  pra»Ur 

tiite. 

g-apin^.  shouiiiij: 
garboila,  tui!;i  tv 

garden.      Costard'*      blunder      tot 

garish,  splendid.  g«udy. 
gaskins.  Ioo»c  h<^*«  or  brre^hcv 
gasted.  i'ii:htenc !. 
gastness.  gli.isthi.e**. 
gaud 
gaucl\ 


geek 

a    b:;'  ■  ■-. 

geminy.  a  pair. 

gf-norai     ■' '. .  The  p«oj, 


the  lute  or  guitar  kind 

friend,  a  lover. 

frippery,    a    shop  for    the  sale   of 
-e(  iiiui-hand  apparel. 

from.  a«  ay  from. 

front,  a  beginning. 

frontier,    an     outwork    in    fortifi- 
cation. 

frontlet,   cloth  worn  formerly   by  I  Itentry.  e>'nr 

ladies  at  night  to  give  smoothness     grrmanP     '  (f  mmm,  reUlad^iik 


gCiitl. 


to  ihcir  fori-heads.     Mtt.  Angry, 

scowliu'"  look . 
fruitfully,  fully,  abundantly, 
fnish,  to  liruisc;  tobrtak  to  pteccs. 
full,  complete. 

fullam  :  sec  ^^uni an<i/n/l,im. 
fulfil.  i<^  fill  completely. 

fulsome,  lustful. 


»c«<l». 


tfUtt^rt 


nk." 


14 


GIFT—HEBENON. 


gilt,  money  ;  display  of  gold. 

g-imraal-bit,  a  sort  of  double  bit, 
in  which  the  parts  were  united  as 
in  a  gimmal-ring. 

griminers,  a  gimcrack,  a  quaint 
contrivance  (akin  to,  if  not  a  cor- 
ruption cf,  gimmal). 

gin.  to  begin. 

g-injr,  a  gang. 

^rd,  a  sarcasm  ;  to  gibe. 

Gis.  a  corruption  of  Jesus. 

gleek.  a  joke  ;  a  sccff  ;  to  jeer. 

g-lib,  to  geld. 

g-lory,  vaunting. 

g'loze,  to  expound  ;  to  comment  ; 
to  flatter. 

g'lozes,  interpretations. 

g^lut  him,  swallow  him. 

God  ild  you,  a  corruption  of  God 
yield  (requite)  you. 

godded  Jiie,  deified  me. 

god-den,  good  e'en. 

CrOd's  sonties—By  God's  saints,  or 
By  Gods  sanctity,  or  By  Gods 
sante  {i.e.  health  J 

g:ood,  good  friend  ;  good  fellow; 
rich  ;  deed,  in  ver>'  deed  ;  good 
cheap:  a  ion  niarche :  leave, 
ready  assent  ;   masters,  patrons. 

grood-jer,  a  corruption  cf  gou- 
jeer. 

g-orbellied,  paunchy. 

gore-blood  clotted  blood. 

gorge,  throat,  stomach. 

g'OUJeer  or  gonjeers,  the  venereal 
disease. 

gouts,  drops. 

government,  forbearance,  self- 
control. 

grace,  physical  virtue  ;  to  favor ; 
to  bless. 

gracious,  attractive. 

grained,  furrowed,  rough. 

gramercy.  great  thanks. 

grange,  the  chief  farm-house  of  a 
wealthy  proprietor. 

grrant,  argument, 

grate,  o  offend. 

gratulate,  to  be  rejoiced  at. 

grave,  to  rr.ake  an  impression  on. 

gray,  blue,  azure. 

Graymalkin,  a  familiar  spirit  in 
ihe  shape  of  a  cat. 

greasily,  grossly. 
greaves,  armor  for  the  legs, 
green,  sickly,  inexperienced, 
grief,  pain. 
gripe,  a  griffin, 
grise,  a  step. 

gross   palpable. 
ground,  a  musical  term, 
groundlings— 77;^,     The     spec. 


'  tators  who  stood  on  the  ground  ia 
1       tlie  theatre. 

grow,  to  accrue. 

guard,  to  face  ;  to  ornament. 

guerdon,  a  reward. 

guinea-ben,  a  cant  term  for  SI 
prostitute. 

gnles,  the  heraldic  term  for  "red." 

gulf,  swallow. 

gull,  a  trick. 

gun-stones,  bullets. 
gust,  to  taste  ;  to  perceive. 


H — an  ache  or  pain. 

babit,  a  herald's  coat,  behavior. 

back,  to  do  mischief;    to  become 

cheap  or  vulgar. 
baggard.  a  wild,  untrained  hawk; 

wanton,  libertine. 
baggisb,  deformed,  or  deforming. 
bair,  grain,  character. 
balcyon,  the  bird  otherwise  called 

the  king-fisher . 
balf-caps,  slight  salutations, 
balf -pence,  minute  pieces, 
balidom,  holiness,  faith. 
Hallowmas,    the  mass  or  feasU 

day  of  A  ll-Hallows  or  A  ll-Saints. 
bandsaw,  a  corruption   of  hern- 

shavj  {i.e.  heron). 
band-fast— /«,    In    custody ;     a 

contract,  a  betrothal. 
bandy-dandy,  a  verj-  old  game 

among  children. 
bangers,    the   fringed    loops    ap- 
pended to  the  girdle,  in  which  the 

dagger    or    small    sword     usually 

hung. 

bangman,  rascally. 
Hannibal,  Elbow's  Jjlunder   for 

Cannibal. 
bappily.  haply. 

bappiness,  good  fortune. 
bappy,  accomplished. 
bard,  unpleasant. 

bardiment.  bravery. 

barlot,  base. 

barnesc,  armor, 

barried,  ill-treated. 

bateful.  malignant. 

baunt — Out  of.  Out  of  company. 

bave,  to  conceive  ;  to  understand. 

baving,  possessions,  fortune. 

bay,    the   Italian  hai,   '"  you  have 

it." — an  exclamation  in  fencing. 
bealtb,  safety  generally. 
beat,  to  run  a  heat  or  course,  as  in 

a  race. 
beavy,  cloudy,  dark. 

bebenon,  "henbane"  or  " ebony.'* 


HF.F  rs-  IS  FA  MONIZE 


hefts,  he;ivinpi. 
helpless,  affording  no  hell), 
hence,  licntcforwanl. 

henchman,  a  page, 

hent,  a  huld,  an  opportunity  to  be 

seized. 
hermits,  beadsmen,  penons bound 

to  pray  for  you. 
best,  a  command. 
hig'h-day  -fit,  holiday  termi. 
hiffh-8tomach*d,  haughty. 

hicrht,  named. 

hildingr,  a  low,  dcccncrate  wretch, 
hipped,  lamed  or  hurt  in  the  hip«. 
hit.  to  agree. 

hoar,  to  become  mouldy  ;  to  m.ike 
white  ;  to  infect  with  lcpro>y. 

Sobbididance,  a  slight  variation 
ot    Ho:-,-rd:danct,  a  ticnd. 

hobby-horse,  a  ioose  w  om.-xn  ;  a 
sillv  I  el  low. 

holaing:.  consistency  ;  the  burden 
of   a  song. 

holy,  pure,  just. 

holy-ales,  rural  festivals. 

home.  i'>  the  utmost. 

honest,  .haste. 

honesty,  liberality,  decency. 

honey-seed,  the  Hostess's  blun* 
dcr  lor  hoptiicide. 

honey-suckle,  T'///iJ/'M,the  Host- 
ess's blunder  (or  homicidal  vil- 
lain. 

hoodman-blind.  the  pame  wIulK 

wc  niw  call  bii'td-mans-^Ujff'. 
Hopdance,  perhaps  a  variation  of 

Hi'l'bididixnce, 

hope,  to  c-xpcci. 

host,  to  lodge. 

hot-house,  a  bagnio,  (which  was 

olicn  a   bn.thcl). 

housewife,  or  hunvi/t,  (a  term 

ol  rciiro.ich*.  a  wanton. 
how,  ftr  what  price  may  be  had  ? 
boxes,  hamstrings. 

huffs:er-mu^firer— /«,  Secretly, 
hulk,  a  ship,  generally  a  heavy  or 

h.r^c  ship. 

hull,  to  flo-it ;  to  swim, 
humorous,  humid,  perverse,  e»* 

pricifUS. 

hurricano.  a  water-spout. 
hurtled,  clashed, 
husband,  a  husbandman, 
husbandry,  economical   govcro- 


I,  the  old  spelling  of  the  afBrmative 

.ndvcrb  ay. 
Idle,  trifling,  vain,  weak,  infcriilc. 

Mnfruitfiil. 


i'fecks,    n.   xt   probably  a  onrrvp 

Itf""  ' 

ill-ii 

illus- 

iintt*fiiia.ry    j^ 


1. 

M,     power*    Ol 

Immanity.  barbarity, 
immediacy,     immediaia     repf. 

-ei.lj',1    II. 
Immoiiu-nt,  >  *"  ;    ■  i      mrnt. 
imnri    • 
ini]), 
imp.t;. 

impartiu'.-i.t. 
impasted,  i   •    - 
impaw^n,  t  >  i  . . 
impeach.  ;>"  itni-cacLn.ctiu 
impeachment,    an    ab^imctioa, 

.1  irpi    ...  h 

linpeticoa   tkr   t:r.,f:i:itr,   "im- 

p     .   krt   l(    V   gl.itultV." 

Impleach'd,  inleru   vn. 
importance,     importunuyi      the 

nnp..-t 

importless,  unimportant 
impose,   'n  im)iositiun  ;  to  cojola  t 

t'j  >    .nun  .nd. 
impoSGible,  inconccirabte. 
impreso,  a  device  in  picture  wiih 

in    ::        r    »  .ird. 
iuiputatlcn,      rittributed      excel- 

\r: 

Incni  to  comprehend, 

inca:    .  Andrew'*  Llun* 

tier  :    I  .-  •  ■  j.v. 

incarnadine,  to  stain  red  or  cat 
incense, ;  '    '    Vin  Me. 

inClipS,  r: 

include.  r. 

incor.': 

incoi. 

inco:, 

incon  f.  i 

incredulo- 

indent,   t 

t   .  I  ..inp. 

indifTorency. 

:,jry  M/e. 

IndiK-.--'* 


-    ...iciy. 
rmted. 


contract ; 

i.t;  iovard%. 
ipartuliiy,    ordt* 


ifldiK 
indi: 
inai. 
ii\di' 

iiidit'  ••«' 

indu   ■ 

mdua 

mduranc«.  tonlmcmeol. 
infamonixe.  «o  make  infj 


16 


INFECT— LA  G. 


infect,  infected. 
infer,  to  introduce. 
informal,  deranged,  insane. 
ingrener,  an  ingenious  person  ;   an 

artist. 
ingenious,  ingenuous,  intelligent, 

acuic. 
inhabitable,  uninhabitable. 
inherit,  to  obtain  possession  of. 
inhibit,  to  prDhibic. 
injointed,  jointed,  uni'ed. 
inkjiorn  mate,  a  bookish  man. 
inkle,  .t  kind  of  inferior  tape. 
inland  bred,    brought    up  among 

C'Vilized  persons. 
inly,  inward. 

innocent,  an  idiot,  a  simpleton. 
insculp'd.  carved  in  relief. 

insinuate,  to  soothe. 

insisture,  fixedness,  stability. 

instance,  motive,  symptom,  infor- 
mation, proof. 

insuppressive.  insuppressible. 

intend,  to  pretend  ;  to  set  forth  ; 
to  make  to  appear. 

intendment,  intention. 
intention,  eagerness  of  attention 

or  of  de>ire. 
intentively.  attentively, 
intrenchant,    which     cannot    be 

cue. 
intrinse   intricate. 

intrinsicate.  intricate, 
invectively,  abusively. 

invis'd.  invisible,  unseen. 
inward,       intimate,       a      familiar 

friend. 
irreguloUS,  disorderly,  lawless. 
I  wis.  1  \\  cen. 

J. 

jac'k,  the  small  bowl  aimed  at  in 
the  game  of  bowling  ;  "  to  kiss  the 
"ack"  is  a  state  of  great  advantage  ; 
rVill-o'-the-wisp  ;  an  automaton 
that  in  public  clocks  struck  the 
bell  on  the  outside  ;  a  common 
term  of  contempt  and  reproach. 

j  ack-ar.-apes.  an  ape. 

jacks,  the   keys  of   tne  virginals  or 

virginal. 
jad2,  to  ride  ;  to   drive   haras^d  ; 

to  over-master. 
jadery,  the  properties  of  a  vicious 

horse  ;  jadish  tricks, 
idLjTXQ  J  u  d^nents . 
jape,  a  jest. 

jar   ''  /*  '/t?  clock,  tick  of  the  clock. 
jauncing".  jaunting,  hard-riding. 
jaWs  to  devour. 
jay,  a  loose  womac 


% 


jesses,  the  short  straps  of  leather, 
but  sometimes  of  silk,  which  went 
round  the  legs  of  a  hawk. 

jet,  to  strut. 

jet  tifon,  to  encroach  upon. 

jig-,  frequently  synonymous  with 
ballad. 

jigging ./<^(^^-s'.  silly  poets. 
John-a-dreams,  a  nick-name  for 

a  dreamy,  stupid  fellow, 
judicious,  judicial. 
jump,  a  hazard  ;   to  agree  ;  to  risk  ; 

exactly,  coincident  with. 
junkets,  sweetmeats. 
justicer,  a  justice. 
jutty,  ox  jetty,  that  part  of  a  build- 

mg  which  shoots  forward  beyoud 

the  rest. 


kam,   crooked  ;  clean  kam,   quite 

crooked,  quite  wrong. 
kecksies,    dry     hollow    stalks    of 

hemlock  or  similar  plants. 
keech,  a  lump  of  fat. 

keel,  to  cool. 

keep,    care  ;    to  live  ;   to   restrain ; 

guard,  ox  fasten 
ken,  to  know  ;  to  descrj'  ;  a  view. 

kerchief,  a  coif. 

kern,  a  light-armed  foot-soldier  of 
Ireland  and  of  the  Western  Isles. 

kibe,  a  chap  in  the  heel,  an  ulcer- 
ated chilblain. 

kicky- wicky,  a  -wife  or  mistress. 

kind,  nature  ;  possessed  of  natural 
afiection. 

kindle,  to  incite  ;  to  bring  forth, 
unnatural. 

kindly,  naturally,  aptly. 

king'd,  ruled. 

kirtle,  sometimes  the  jacket  mere- 
ly, and  sometimes  the  train  or 
upper-petticoat  attached  to  it. 

kissing-comfits,       sugar-plums 

perfumed,  to  sweeten  th-  breath. 
knapped,  snapped,  rapped. 
knave,  a  lad,  a  servant. 


labras,  lips. 

lace,  to  embellish. 

laced  muttofi — A,  Common  cant 
expression  for  a  courtesan. 

lackeying,  float  ng  backwards 
and  forwards  like  :i  page  or  lackey. 

lady-smocks,  a  common  meadow- 
plant. 

lag,  late  •,  the  last  or  lowest  pari 
or  class. 


LA  MING- LOIS. 


laming,  outgoing,  surpavsini^. 
lang-uish,     the    state    of    pining, 

'-ullcriiiiL;. 
lantern,   a  spacious  round  or  oc- 

I  1^    n    1  tiinet  full  of  window*, 
lapp'd.  wrapped  up. 
lapsed,  f'>uiul  off  my  Ru.-ird. 
lai'ded,  garni-.hed,  strewed  with, 
larg'e.  free,  licentious, 
latch,  t  J  1  .y  hold  of;    to  catch  ;  to 

lii  Ic  over  ;  to  anoint. 

late.  "••w. 

lated   belated,  benighted, 
tatten,    a    sort    ot    nuxed     metal, 
resembling  brass  in  its  nature  and 

color. 

iaug'h-and-lie-dowu,   a    game 

at  .  .mU. 
laund,  a  lawn. 
lavolt,  or  involta,  a  dance  for  two 

persons. 
lay,  a  wager  ;  to  wavlay. 
lay  .A'^,  to  lay  out  {ox  \   to  strive  to 

leag"Uer,  Flemish  word  for  a  camp. 

leash,  a  tierce. 

leasing,  lying. 

leather-coats,    the   apples   gcn- 

<  rally  kno.»n  as  golden  russetUJgs. 
leave,  liccntiousn  .-ss. 
leave,  to  part  witii  ;   to  leave  ofl. 
leer,  complexion,  color, 
leese,  to  lose, 
leet.  a  manor  court,  rr  private  juiis- 

d:.  ;inn  for  petty  offences 
leg.  a  b.w. 

legerity,  lightness,  nimbleness. 
'leges,  alleges. 
leman,  a  mi^trc«s,  a  sweetheart,  a 

iiaramoiir,  a  lover, 
length,  ckiay.  Slay. 

lenten.  si..irc. 

I'envoy,  ;«  farewell  or  moral  at  the 
end  ot  a  poem,  and  sometimes  of  a 
prose  piece. 

let.  a  hindrance ;  to  hinder ;  to 
detain  ;  to  forbear. 

letter,  recommendation. 

libbard.  a  leopard. 

liberal.  lil>crtine.  free  to  excess. 

lie.  to  reside,  to  sojourn. 

liefest,  dearest. 

lieger.  or  l.iftr,^  reMdent  am- 
bassador at  a  foreign  court. 

Tien,  lain.  ...         ,     • 

lien  —  /".  In  consideration  of,  m 
t'-turii  for. 

lifter.  .1  thief. 

light,  lighie.l,  fallen 
light   <"/  <■'»''•    crcdulou*   of    evil, 
rrailv  to  believe  malicious  report*, 
lightly,  commonly,  usually. 


like    I  <  please  ;  to  liken. 
likelihood.  s':.u!.t.>.!^. 
limbeck.  .>m  alrM.i  . 
limb-meal,  imi .  i  •,  hn.'. 

Limbo,    h   It  ;    a    <  <iit    term    f<jr  ■ 

prison  ;  condneiiicnt. 
limit,  to  appoint. 
line  <^/ i'/<,  «'nc  ■>{  the   line»  in  lh« 

f>alni  ol  the  h.iiiii.  acKjrdingio  the 
aiiguagc  ..f  palii.ntry 
line,  lo  strrn^ihen  ;  lo  delineate. 
line-gTOVe.  a  gn^ve  of    linden   or 

lime-trees. 
linff.  a  plant. 
link,  a  tour. 
lip.  to  kiss 

La  psbury     /.»;'.../.      l.ipsbury 

p.u.i.l. 
liquor,   to  mb  with  oil  or  greaM, 

in  (udcr  to  kerp  out  the  Hater. 
list,  desire,  a  limit. 
lither.  f1«-xil>le  cr  yielding, 
little       ■'/.   I"  liiinialurc 
livelihood,  livclinrv-.  .tnimalion. 
liver.  aiKiciiily  siij.;,  ,>r  !  to  be  lh« 

in>pircr  of  amorous    pastion   and 

the  seat  of  love. 
living,  fortune,  possessions. 

loach,  a  fish. 

lob,    lubUr  ;    d,^'n    t'err  keadi, 

h.mg  d'wn.  droop  »h«.»r  heaOs. 
lockram.  a  sort  of  cheap  linen, 
lodge,  to  beat  down  ;  to  lay  flat. 
loff.  Iai>.;h. 

loggats,  the  diminutive  of  A'/«. 
long.  t..  belong. 
longing,    i<n£tJ,   wished    or    de» 

s.rcd. 
longly.  longingly. 
loOi  a.  brought  close   to  the  wind 

1  I  sc.i  term). 
look.  I'll      k  for.  to  lo..k  out. 
loon     r  i-u».  a  term  •  i  rcpioach,— 

.1  siuj.id  rascal,  a  i<>rr>-  (cll.-w, 
loop'u.  full  of  small  4(>rriatrs,  like 

the     /(V/J     in     old     <.a*tlrs     aod 

towerv 
loose— --f/    *'"'    Xrrjr.   A    mclaphof 

derived  fiom  arvhery.  — Avir  bcin( 

the   -   ■■  ■"     I    •-■■■    •   '    •"    -^  '• 

.hj    .        r 

lop    ' 
lordiu*«». 

tcjs  ;  an  ^  •». 

Lord's  /'•■■  -•«: 

t  kfni  o\ the 

term  for  tho»e  'pfi^on  »h«"  body. 
which  denoted  the  inlcctioa  of 
the;.'.       r 

losel. 

loss.  ,         w_ 

lots.  •  ^'  numb« 


18 


LOTTERY— METE. 


of  tickets  in  a  lottery,  which  took 

its  name  from  thence. 
lottery,  an  allotment, 
louted,  mocked,  contemned. 
love-day,  a  day  of  reconciliation. 
love-in-idleness,     pansy     or 

heart'  s-ease. 

lover,  a  male  friend. 

lown,  see  loon. 

Lubber's-head,  the  Hostess's 
blunder  for,  or  a  vulgar  corruption 
of,   LibbarcTt    {£.    e.    Leopard's) 

^  head. 

'uce,  a  pike-fkh. 

Lud's-town,  "  Trinovantum, 
calied  Caer  Ltid.  and  by  corrup- 
tion of  the  word  Caer  London, 
and  in  process  of  time  London, 
was  rebuilt  by  Lud,  Cassibelan's 
elder  brrther." 

lugrged,  pulled,  seized,  by  the  ears. 

lunes,  tits  of  lunacy. 

lurch,  probably,  to  lie  in  ambush. 

lurcli'd,  won. 

lush.,  luxuriant. 

lust,  inclination. 

lustic.  lusty. 

luxurious,  lascivious. 

lym,  a  lime-hound,  a  sporting-dog. 

M. 

mace,  a  scepter,  a  club  of  metal. 

maculate,  stained,  impure. 

magnifico,  a  title  given  to  the 
grandees  of  Venice. 

maeot-pies,  magpies. 

Mahu,  the  prince  of  darkness ;  the 
fiend  of  stealing, 

mail'd,  wrapped  up. 

main,  the  mainland. 

mained,  lamed. 

make,  to  fasten  ;  to  bar*  to  do. 

make  dainty,  to  hola  out,  or 
refuse,  affecting  to  be  delicate  or 
dainty. 

m.akeless,  mateless. 

malmsey-nose,  red-nosed. 

malt-hoi'se.  a  dull  heavy  horse  ; 
a  term  of  reproach. 

malt-worms,  tipplers  of  ale. 

mammering',  hesitating. 

mammet,  punpet,  breasts. 

mammocked,  mangled,  torn  in 
pieces. 

man.  to  make  tractable. 

ynanag-p,  management,  adminis- 
tration, conduct ;  a  course,  a 
running  in  the  lists  ;  the  training 
of  a  horse  how  to  obey  the  hand 
and  voice. 
mandrake,  the  English  name  of 


viatidragoras,  a  powerful  sopor« 
ific. 

mankind,  masculine,  termagant  ; 
applied  even  to  beasts  in  the  sense 
of  ferocious. 

manner, —  Taken  -with  the,  Takea 
in  the  fact  (a  law-term), 

man-queller.  a  man-slayer. 

many,  a  multitude. 

marches,  the  borders  of  a  country, 
or  rather  a  space  on  each  side  the 
broders  of  two  contiguous  countries 

march-pane,  a  sort  of  sweet 
biscuit,  which  constantly  formed 
part  of  the  desserts  of  Shake- 
speare's time. 

margent,  margin. 

raarish,  a  marsh. 

marmoset,  a  kind  of  monkey. 

m.arry  trap,  apparentlj'  a  kind  o* 
proverbial  exclamation,  as  much 
as  to  say,  '"•  By  JMary,"  you  are 
caught. 

mart,  to  traffic. 

match,  compact. 

mate,  to  confound ;  to  bewilder ; 

to  equal. 

material,  stocked  with  notions. 

mauger,  in  sptte  of. 

maund.  a  basket. 

mazard,  the  head. 

nieacock  -wretch — A^  A  spiritless, 

dastardly  wretch. 

meal'd,  mingled,  compounded. 

mean,  m  music  was  the  intenn«» 
diate  part  between  the  tenor  and 
treble. 

measles,  leapers— scurvy  fellows. 

measure,  moderation,  a  dance. 

medicine,  a  physician. 

meed,  merit,  desert  ;  particulai 
excellence. 

meetTC'/M.  to  counteract. 

meiny,  household  attendants^ 
retinue. 

mell.  meddle. 

memorize,  to  make  memorable. 

memory,  a  memorial. 

mercatante.  a  merchant. 

merchant,  a  familiar  and  con- 
temptuous term,  equivalent  tc 
'"chap-fellow  ;  "  a  merchantman, 
a  ship  of  trade. 

mere,  absolute,  entire. 

mered,  mooted. 

merit,  a  reward,  a  guerdon. 

mess,  a  party  of  four. 

messes— i^^rf^r,  persons  of  ia 
leriur  rank. 

metaphysical,  supematurat 
mete,  to  measure  with  the 
yardy  a  measuring  yard« 


ME  TIIECLIN^KA  YWARD 


metheg'lin,  a  bcvcr.n;c. 

oaichfT,  a  iruant. 

miching'   malUcho^    a   fcccrct  and 

wicked    contrivance;  a  conc«alcd 

wickedness. 
micKle,  much, 
mimic.  ;-ii  actor. 
mind.  !"  intend,  to  he  di«i)o»cd,  to 

rciainci  ;  iiublcncss  of  fccul. 
mineral,  a  mine, 
minikin,  small,  delicate,  pretty, 
tninim..     was    anciently,     art     the 

term    imports,    the    khortcst   note 

in  nuisic. 
xnirable.  admirable, 
miser,     a    mi.scrable    creature,     a 

wrri,  h 
misprise,   to  undervalue  ;   to  mi»- 

t.ikc. 
m.isproud,  vicioubly,  unjustifiably 

proud.  _ 
miss,  misbehavior  ;   lois,  w  ant ;  lu 

do  witliout 
missive,  a  messenger, 
mistaken.  ditfereMt  troin. 

jnistempered.  ill-tempered. 

misthink,  to  thi  :k  ill  of. 

mistress,  the  small  ball  in  the 
game  ot  bowls,  at  which  the  play- 
ers .liin. 

mo.  more. 

mobled.  muffled  or  covered  up 
ah  lilt  the  head. 

model,  an  image,  a  representation. 

moJ.ern.  trite,  ordin.iry,  common. 

modesty,  moderation. 

Idiodo.  another  name  for  the 
pi  mo-  of  darknesi, ;  the  ticnd  of 
nuini.r. 

m.oldwarp,  a  mole. 

mome.  a  blockhead. 

]Vrr>nn.rf;hf>  the  nick-name  of  an 
Italian  who  attracted  a  great  deal 
of  attention,  ami  is  very  Irequcntlv 
mentioned  by  English  writers  ol 
the  time. 

monster,  to  make  monstrous. 

montant,  the  abbreviation  of 
uwiitanto,  a  fencing  term. 

p/Trtnf.a  nt.f>  —  Sign  tor.  a  name 
given  in  jest  by  Beatrice  to  Bene- 
dick, and  implying  that  he  was  a 
great  fencer. 

mood,  anger. 

m.OOn-Calf.  ^  false  conccptio*,  or 
a  fiLtiis  imperfectly  formed,  in 
consequence,  as  w.is  supposed,  of 
the  influence  of  the  moon ;  a 
monster. 

m.OOnisll.  variable,  inconstant. 

mop.  -i  grimace. 

moral,  a  latent  meaning. 


moraliJM,  cxp'^und,  inicrpm 
more  '>nd  Uu    great  and   (iaallt 

g.Cjt-. 

Korisco   a  momt-dancrr. 
morri3-pike.  a  Mwof  uh  btk«. 

mort  t;  ..   .. 

mortal,  il«- .  I'v.  manlrfna*, 
mortal,  rxocr.lmt,  very. 
Xnortiflod.     (lead    l<i     th«    »a«44| 

av.  rW 
znose   '«   tkt  ckimf.  a  d.k'.nicr  ta 

h    rsc>. 
moat,  greale»U 
mot.  a  woii.  a  «-:.•.'!    - 

motion, 
motley. 

worn    l> 

cr> ;  a  d   luc:.^  :^-l  cr  y,.\it  ,^ 

UttHlif,/,    {     <   ll»h. 

mould  -MfH  o/,    '.Men  of  ean^ 

1>  '   r  in  irtal  men." 

mountant,   mouoting.  rutog  ea 

hl^h. 

mouse,  (o  tear  in  piece*,  to  devour 
formerly   a  common   term  dl  «•• 

<lc.irmcn' 

.wry 

.1     c  V,  :rv,iL,n    of 


It). 


moy.  a  I!,  ., 

m^U    h.      a:i     I  .1     cv 

.    i.icii.it  .1!.  1  denial 
mum  !i4.t\^ff.   a  cant  leitn  iinplf> 

iiig  mIciii.c  aiid  se.  tecs . 
muxximy,  a  pici-uaiiun.  fur  inA^i* 

cal    purpose*,    nulc     (n  m    <ic»4 

bodies. 

znurderinK-piece.   »  ^ : .-  !  pt«c« 

o.  artiilrr\  ;   i-  ;       .  :■  i      ■  <-  'r-j-.x 

the   lo..,  • 

towers 

were    s  )   . 

the  for.,  ., 

murk,  «'.r . 
muse,  to  ' 
muset.     '  '     ani 

ntMt:!K  t  0   C# 

ll.tck.t.    1  r,^ 

Other  bca%i  i  i  s\-  i ;  i»  a       .»;.>a»rt 

to  pas*. 
music,  mutical,  melliduouk. 
mutine.  t  >  mutiny, 
mutton,   a   cant   term  (ar  a  ro«ir 

te/ui.. 
m3rstery.  «n  »t\,  a  cAlimj. 

N. 

napkin    >  f  >    '."•Lcrchkf. 
natural    >  < 

nautrhty.  wicked.  wortiit«M 

nave    '■    '-  na»rl. 

nayward.  tcndeocy  \o  d«aM 


NA  V-IVORD—OSPREV. 


nay-'WOrd.  a  watchword,  a  laii^h- 
iiig-stock. 

aear,  admitted  to  one's  confidence. 

neb.  a  beak,  a  bill,  a  nose. 

aeedly,  needfully,  necessarily. 

aeeldfa  needle. 

neezo  to  sneeze. 

neif,  a  fist. 

nsther-SOcks,  lower  stocks,  stock- 
ings. 

next,  nearest. 

nice,  s   'upulous,  squeamish,  silly. 

l>licholas'  clerks—Saint,  a  cant 
term  for  highwaymen  and  rob- 
bers. 

Hicki  to  cut  ia  nicks  or  notches  ; 
reckoning. 

niece,  a  grand-daughter. 

niggard,  to  stint,  to  supply  spar- 
ingly. 

n..gllt-mle.  mght-revel. 

nigrllted,  dark  as  night. 

niil,  V  ill  not. 

nine-men's-morris.  a  game, 

no  ".  In  our  au  hers  time  the  nega- 
tive, in  common  speech,  was  used 
to  design,  ironically,  the  excess  of 
a  tning. 

nobless.  notlen  ss. 

nod  to  gii'e  t,\e  7iod  wcLS  a  term 
ui  the  game  at  cards  called  Noddy. 

noddy,  a  simpleton,  a  fool. 

noise,  music  ;  a  company  or  con- 
cert. 

TiXOnCQ— For  the,  for  the  occasion. 

nook-sliotten  isle,  an  isle  that 
-shoots  out  into  capes,  promon- 
tories, end  necks  of  land. 

nortiiem  jhuh,  a  clown. 

not,  not  only. 

nott-pated,   havins  the  hair  cut 

short  round  and  round. 
nousles  to  nurse. 
novum,  a  game  at  dice,  played^  by 

fi\  e  or  six  persons. 
nO'wl.  the  head. 
nuncle,     a     contraction    of    mine 

umle   and    the    usual    address,    it 

pears,  of  the  domestic  fool  to  his 

superiors. 
rs.U*"-llOOk,  a  cant  term  for  a  catch- 

po'e. 
nttZZling-,  nestling. 

O. 

3,  anything  circular  ;   marks  of  the 

sni.tU-poX: 
oathable,    capable   of   having    an 

oath  administered. 
Ob,  the   abbreviation  of  0bolum^ — 

a  halfpenny. 


Obdicilt,  a  variation  of  the  nam« 
of  the  hend  called  Hoberdicut  and 

I  laberdicut. 

Obligation,  a  b  .1  d. 

obseqtlious,  absorbed  in  funeral 
gi  let  ;  funereal. 

observance,  observation. 

observants,  obsequious  attend'- 
ants. 

observe,  to  show  respectful  atten- 
tion. 

obstacle,  a  rustic  corruption  of 
obstinate. 

occulted,  secret. 

occupation,  mechanics. 

OCCUrrentS,  occurrences,  incidents^ 

odd-even,  the  interval  between 
twelve  at  night  and  one  in  tbe 
morning. 

oddly,  unequally. 

'ods  pittikins !  from  God's  pityy 
diminutively  used  by  the  addition 
of  kin.  In  this  manner  we  havt» 
'od'' s  bod i kins 

Ceilliads.  amorous  glances. 

o'erlooked,  bewitched. 

o'er-po.rted,  having  too  cciusidera 
ble  a  part  or  character  assigned  to 
him. 

O'er-postmg,  getting  quickly  over. 

O'er-raught,  overtook,  over- 
reached, cheated. 

o'er-sized.  smeared,  daubed  over. 

o'er-wrested,  over-v/ound,  over- 
strained. 

of,  on. 

officious,  ready  wirh  their  service. 

old,  plentiful,  great. 

Old,  =  W(7/i/,  a  plain  open  country, 
downs. 

omen,  a  portentous  event. 

on,  of. 

once,  once  for  all ;  at  one  time  cf 
other. 

operant,  operative,  active, 

opinion,  credit,  repu  ation,  self- 
opinion,  conceit. 

opposite,  an  adversary  ;  'hostile. 

opposition,  a  combat, 

oppress,   to  suppress. 

orb,  the  circle  in  a  iield,  known  by 
the  name  of  fairy-ring. 

Orcbard,  generally  synonymous 
with  ffurden. 

ordinance,  rank. 

Ordinant,  ordaining,  swayin    . 
ordinary,    a    public    dining-table 

u  here  each  person  pays  his  share, 
orgulous,  proud,  haughty. 
ort,  a  scrap,  a  leaving  ;  the  word  is 

seld-im  found  in  the  singular. 
OSprey,  lishing-hawk. 


n<;//:xr-p.4  tt/:r.v 


ostent,  n  show,  a  display. 
OCherirates,  in  another  manner. 
OU^liCS,  jewels, 
ought,  owed. 
OUphs.  i-.vcs  Koblint. 
ousel,  ti.o  hl.i.kbird. 

out-breasted,  out  »img. 

outlook,  to  l.iicclcwii. 

overbold,  to  keep   up,   to  o%cr- 

over-pass'd.  p.isnccI  away, 
cvei-scutcliea.  ovcr-wliiii|>ed. 
".  vex'ture.  ;iii  opcnini;,  a  ui 


:loM 


iscovery, 


O'^ve,  to  own,  to  posses*. 

Oxlips,  a  h.indsome  plant  like  the 
I  'Wblip,  hut  larger. 

eyes,  (r^YiZ,  hear  ye>,  the  ij»u;d 
iMtrodiiction  to  a  proclamation  or 
advertisement  of  the  public  cr^er. 

P. 

pack,    to    practise    unlawful    con- 

Ijdcracy  or  collusion, 
paction,  a  compact,  a  contract,  an 

a. .  ..ilii  C. 

paddock,  a  toad  ;  a  f.iinillar spirit, 
m  the  sliape  c>f  a  toad. 

pagran,  a  cam  term,  implying  ir- 
r-j^ulariiy  either  in  birth  or  man- 
ners. 

paid,  beaten,  punislied, dispatched, 

pain,  a  paiu^iiincut. 

painted  cioth,  u>'d  a*  hanging* 
lur  ro  ms,  was  cl'-th  or  canv.is, 
painted  in  oil,  representing  varimi^ 
subjects,  with  devices  and  mottoes 
or  proverbial  sayings  inters|>er*ed  : 
it  li.is  bejii  erroneously  expluiued 
to  mc.m  t.ipcstry. 

pajOCk    peacock. 

p.xlabras,  eipnvalent  to  the  Span- 
i>^    piCiis  piilabraSf    /.    ^,    "lew 

pale,   paleness  ;  to  enclose  «s  with 

a  \K\\>:  \  to  encompass, 
palled.  ilei;.i>cd.  impaired, 
pulliament.  a  robe, 
palter,  to  shuflle,  to  equivocate. 
pan&T,  to  ^Ivc  violent  pain  to. 
pantaloon,    it  I\ittaU'Ht   means 

pr  >pcrly  oae  of  the  rcgii  ar  i  bar- 

.icicrs  in  the  old  Italian  conicdy . 
pantler,  t!ie  servant  who  took  care 

it  tlic  p  mtry  or  of  the  bread, 
paper,  srcnrltlcs.    _ 
papers,  sets  down  in  wntmg. 
parcel.  T  pirt. 

parcel-erilt,  what  is  now  called  by 

■>rti-.ts/.;r."v.jc.-7/,  _ 

Parish-garden,  a  ruigansm  for 


Parii-^xrJen,    t'.-     .j.m.^s.^    bdi 
K  >!<i':ii  in  Soulhw«r«,. 

pariah-top,  a  brice  top  wm  fuf 

li.r.:y  I     .  ;    ,:.    r  .    x,  ,_  ^    ^  .   \^ 

*hip  .t 

the  I  -  rx 

by     CV  .  .:(, 

ubilc: 
I>aritOl  *arit^r. 

'•>  -^n  I  ,   » Cuu»i, 

V  ho  cj:!.C.  out  Cititwvi**, 

Parle.  t  >  parley. 

parlous,  a  t'-rruption  oiftriUmt^ 

alartnin,;,  amaAUiS.  shrewd- 
panzutoeti.    a    corrupt    form    of 

i/>erma.  e:i. 
part,  t'artly  ;  a  partv;  !■»  dcjvart 
partake,   to   eKtcuJ    pjr:uii,.itiia 

<  f  ;   1  .  take  part, 
partaker,  a  (>anner,  a  toafedcrmte. 

parted,  endowed. 

partialize    t..  make  partial. 

partisan,  a  kind  of  pike  or  ha}> 

beril. 

partlet.  a  w  oman's  ruff  or  Land. 

party,  a  part. 

pash.  to  ktiike  a  lhiiiK«i(h  such 

Ticc  as  to  cru  Vi  it  I  >  |    ■         ;  l?.e 
head, rather . 

pass,  to  Mil . 

to  die  ;    to  1 

for;  to  a^iMire J  t"'Cci)\'-_. 
I>assable.  snmcicnt  lo  "procure  a 

p.iss  or  admisNion. 
IWSSado,   a  p.'ss  or    molioD    for> 

\v  .ltd*  ia  fciitu:^  term). 

];>assa«e,    *  y^-^u^^   away;   th« 
movuic  to  ana  tro,  the  cru«*«ap,  of 

pxssenKer*. 
passes,  artful  d-".;-'-..  tr -tr***, 

passion,    t  •    ^  'W    or 

em    It.  :i  \  \ 
passionate  >■  eaiirr«« 

j.asM  .nattiy. 
pastry,   a    room   where   pastry   i« 

niaiie. 
patch,   properly   •    domrstk    foul, 

and    used   al%o  as  a  term  of  cuo* 

p.-i*    '     -\  'a  fool   in  a    piMl* 


p' 

p.. 

:ery. 
:levte4    and 

faai 

»-.  .1. 

as- 

pu- 

brcaUl 
lh«      a 

.•■*'U|pc»p« 
.  .  rpUte  (l.-r 
uve.i  «ith   lii« 
Imintsiratton 

(h« 

'•tf 

the 

in 

of 

ih# 

cue 

iati»t. 

patronage,  to  patrcohc,  la  su^ 

port,  ti)  drfrnd. 
pattMll,  an  msiaac«,  aa  vaampla. 


22 


FA  UC A— PLUME. 


pauca,  (a  cant  expression),  the 
abbreviation  oi patica  verba. 

paucas pallabris :  i,eQ J>aiadras. 

pavin,  a  dance. 

pax.  a  small  plate  of  metal,  which, 
dunnji  a  certain  part  of  the  mass, 
uas  tendered  to  the  laity  tc  be 
kissed. 

pay,  to  beat ;  to  punish  ;  to  dis- 
patch ;  to  lequite;  to  hit. 

payment,  a  punishment. 

peach.,  to  impeach. 

peak,  to  become  emaciated,  to 
mope,  to  be  spiritless. 

peascod.  the  husk  that  cental  s 
the  peas  ;  a  peascod-branch,  and 
ccds  signify  pods. 

peat,  a  pet,  a  fondling. 

pedant,  a  schoolmaster. 

peel'd.  tonsured. 

peevish.,  silly,  foolish,  trifling. 

peise.    o  weigh  down  ;  to  poise. 

pelleted,  tormed  into  small  balls  ; 
c  jnsisting  of  small  balls. 

pelt,  to  rage  clamoiously. 

pelting:,  pahry,  contemptible. 

penetrative,  penetrating. 

penner.  a  case  for  holdii'.g  pens. 

pensioners,  gentlemen  of  the 
band  of  Pensioners,  who  wore  a 
splendid  uniform. 

perdu,  a  soldier  sent  on  a  forlorn 
hope. 

perdurable,  lasting. 
perdurably,  lastingly. 

perdy.  venly  {par  dieii). 

peregrinate,  of  a  foreign  or  out- 
landish cast. 

perfect,  to  instruct  fully. 

perfect,  certain,  well-informed. 

perforce,  by  violence  ;  of  neces- 
sity. 

periapts,  amulets;  chiirms  worn 
as  preservatives  against  diseases 
or  mischief. 

period,  an  end  ;  to  put  an  end  to. 

perish,  to  cause  to  perish,  to 
destroy, 

perishen,  perish. 

perjure,  to  corrupt  ;  perjurer, 
perpend,    to    weigh,    to  consider 

attentively. 
perplex'd.  distracted. 
person,  a  parson. 
pertly,  alertly,  quickly. 
pervert,  to  turn  away  or  aside, 
pestering,  crowding. 
petar,      or    pettird,     an     engine, 

charged    with    powder,    used     to 

blow  up  gates,  &c. 
Pheezax,     a     made     word     from 

Jfheezt, 


pheeze,    to   beat,    to    chastise,    to 

humble. 
Philip,    a   name   for   the  common 

sparrow,    perhaps   from  its  note. 


phip.  phip. 

)hi 


phisnomy.  physiognomy. 

phraseless,  beyond  the  power  of 
l.mguage  to  describe  justly. 

pick,  to  pitch. 

picked,  scrupulously  nice,  foppish, 
fastidious. 

pickers  and  stealers— By  these. 
By  these  hands. 

picking",  insignificant. 

pick-thanks,  fawning  parasites. 

pied,  pariy-colored. 

piedneSS.  diversity  of  color. 

pight,  pitched,  fixed,  settled. 

pig-nuts,  earth-nuts. 

pilcher,  a  scabbard,  a  sheath. 

pill,  to  pillage. 

Pillicock  :  this  word  was  fre- 
quently used  as  a  teim  of  endear- 
ment. 

pin,  the  wooden  nail  of  the  target. 

pin-buttock,  a  sharp  pointed 
buttock. 

pink  eytie,  small,  winking,  half- 
shut  eyes. 

pitch  and  pay,  Pay  on  delivery. 

pitying,  remitting  his  ransom. 

plaee.  a  term  in  falconry,  meaning 
the  greatest  elevation  which  a 
bird  of  prey  attains  in  its  flight. 

place,  precedence. 

placket,  the  slit  or  opening  in  a 
petticoat,  and  a  stomacher. 

plague,  a  punishment. 

plain,  to  complain  ;  to  make  plain. 

plain-song,  the  uniform  modu- 
lation or  simplicity  of  the  chant 
was  anciently  distinguished,  in 
opposition  to  prick-song  Q\  varie- 
gated music  sung  by  note. 

planched.  planked. 

plantage.  plants,  vegetation. 

plantain,  the  herb  so  called,  not 
the  tree. 

plantation,  colonizing. 

plants,  the  solos  of  the  feet,  feet. 

plash,  a  pool. 

plates,  pieces  of  silver  money, 
platforms,  plans,  schemes. 
plausibly,  by  acclamation. 
plausive.    pleasing,    taking,    spe- 
cious. 

play-feres,  play-fellows, 

pleached,  interwoven,  intertwined, 
pleasance.  pleasure,  delight. 
please-man,  an  officious  parasite, 
plighted,  complicated,  involved. 
plurae  «/,  to  prank  up,  to  gratify. 


PL  U.M»t£.  i-PKlMY 


plummet,  a  plumh-li^e.  for  •ound- 
111^'  ilic  <it-|ilU  wi  Ihc  water. 

plumpy,  plump,  fat. 

plurisy.  u  plethora,  a  ftupcrabuniJ- 
;incc  . 

poach,  po.  he,  or /otiJk,  to  thrukt. 

VOCSiB  /■iii'iil'ras  :  sec  patatraj. 

point,  a  latiycd  lacc,  common  in 
a II I. lent  tircN>. 

point  - /■•.ex.n.tly. 
point-devise,  fuiically-«xact,  inU 

i:_iiicly  cx.ici. 

poise,  w'Mt'lit.  importance. 

poking'-Sticks.  instnimentt  Tt 
V  ttiii;;  the  pl.tits  of  ruffs. 

Polack.  a  Pole. 

pole,  I  lie  standard. 

polled,  si  orn,  cle.ired. 

pomander,  cither  a  composition 
ot  various  perfumes,  wrought  intj 
the  shape  of  a  b.ill,  or  a  case,  fr)r 
containing  such  a  mixture  of  per- 
fumes. 

pome-water,  a  species  of  apple, 

Poor-John,  hake  sailed  and  dried. 

popinja   ".  a  parrot. 

popularity,  plebeian   intercourse. 

porpentine.  a  purcupinr. 
port.  ^'  It,-. 

portagre.  an  outlet.  — port-holes. 

portance,   bearing,  behavior. 

possess,  to  inform  precisely. 

possession,  insanity. 

posters.  >wift  travelers. 

posy,  a  mo'.to. 

potato,    formerly    regarded      as    a 

str-Ui;  provocative. 
potting,  drinking. 
pottle,  a   measure  of  two    quarts  ; 

frequently     meaning    a     drinking 

vessel. 
pouncet-box.   a  box   for   holding 

liertuMieN.  wiih  a  perforated  lid. 

powder,  lo  ^alt. 

practice,  contrivance,  treachery, 
(  '.nspiracy  ;   practical. 

practisants,  confederate*  in  strat- 
agem. 

practise,  to  use  arts  or  stratagems, 
to  plot. 

•praise,  to  appraise. 

prank,  to  deck  out. 

pray  "«  '»'«'',  a  law-term  u»ed  for  a 
petition  made  in  a  court  of  justice 
for  the  calling  in  of  help  from 
another  that  hath  an  interest  in 
the  c.uisc  in  question. 

precedence,  what  has  preceded. 

precedent,  the  t)ricinal  draught  of 
.1  \vntmj4  ;   a  prognostic. 

preceptial,  consisting  of  precept*, 
precepts,  warrant!. 


preclpltancf*  ?'  p  a.  t  c.f  ihrowb>g 

I'  ;>rc<.ip»<.«. 

pref. 

,  prCK':.  f.  dvmivt 


preti..       i 

prcnuiiiiiiiiie. 


r<-ir.l,  !•  fore 


prepost«rou«.  the  Clown**  Uua 

•>r  I    r/r.,,/„^»,. 
prescript,  an  order,  •  duectioa  t 

prev.  r,;.tive. 

presence,    *' -    •      -     -    >  ^oibo 

in  a  p  .1.1   ' 
press,  an  I 

f     •epr, ,     , 

pressed,  forced  into  n>i. 


press-money,  •' -  •• 

VkU«       p.4t>t        I 

Wcrr  retail 

pressures. ;..,  .c 

prest.  ready. 

Frester  J^'fin.  a  fabulous 

tian    ki:)K    •  f   I       -     ■  '     ' 

kiiiia,  or  >  : 

His  title  ' 

atrd,    ;■ 

tra  . 

the 

Christ!.*!.   . 

Kgy).t,    V. 

service,    t 

longer     to     b« 

emi)cror   but  /• 

he  wolde  have  t 

first     preest      that    »c 

the  chirvhe 

John." 

pretence, 
pretend.   : 

li..M  I'lit.  I 
pretty,  p-: 
prevail,  t  ■  . 
prevent,  ; 
preyf  ; '. 
prick 

in 
rri 
by   . 

a 

d.  - 
priik.' 


n  to 
*ty  Mff* 

«Hicli 


Cbfb. 


lb* 


thai 

'  ibe 

.1   •! 

and  kU  aaai«  waa 


pnmoro 
primy.   f-'iy, 
apring. 


^ 


PRINCIPA  LI  TV— QUO  TE. 


principality,  an  angel  of  a  high 
order. 

principals,  the  strongest  rafters 
in  the  roof  of  a  building. 

princox,  a  pert  youtn. 

print — In,  With  great  exactness. 

private,  confidential  intelligence. 

prize,  a  privilege. 

probal,  probable. 

probation,  proof,  act  of  proving. 

process,  i^  summons,  a  citation. 

prolamation,  a  report,  a  char- 
acter. 

yrodigious,  portentous,  unnatu- 
ral. 

proditor,  a  betrayer,  a  traitor. 

proin,  to  prune. 

prolixioUS,  prolix,  causing  delay. 

rrclong'd,  deferred. 

l^rono,  prompt,  forward,  head- 
strong, significant. 

proof  hardened  ;  firm  temper,  im- 
penetrability. 

proper,  one's  ov^n. 

proper,  well-looking. 

property,  to  appropriate  ;  to  en- 
dow with  properties  or  quali- 
ties. 

propose,  conversation  ;  to  dis- 
course ;  to  converse ;  to  image  to 
oneself. 

propriety,  proper  state  or  con- 
dra  -n. 

propuT-nation,  defence. 

prorog-UG.  to  prolor.g. 
provand,  provender,  food. 
provokCG.  urges  on,  impels. 
pro-T-oking-,  stimulating. 
Puck    fiend  or  devil. 
P'ldency,  modesty. 
pMi-Sringr.  pri'^ging,  thieving. 
puka-StocIiing-,         dark-colored, 

1   'crh    p-^  equivalent  to /^/c^"). 
pMlsidgG,  the  Hostess's  corruption 

pMn.  to  pound,  to  beat. 

punto.  a  thrust,  a  stroke,  (a  fenc- 

v.vg  term). 
pv.nto     7-fversOy     a     back-handed 

thrust      or      stroke     (a      fencing- 

termK 
plirchase,    gain,     advantage  ;     a 

.-M    t  term  for  stolen  goods, 
purples,  the  early  purple  orchis, 
pursuivants,  heralds, 
pasll.    an   exclamation,  equivalent 

put  on.  to  instigate, 
puttock.  a  kite. 
pU3zel.  a  foul  drab. 
pyramis,  a  pyramid. 


quail,  to  overpower,  to  slacken. 

quails,  a  cant  term  for  prostitutes. 

quaint,  ingenious,  clever,  artful, 
neat,  elegant. 

quak'd  gladly.^  thrown  into  grate- 
ful trepidation. 

qualify,  to  soften,  to  weaken. 

quality,  (used  technically  to  sig- 
nify) the  profession  of  an  actor  ; 
a  profession,  an  occupation. 

quarter,  an  allotted  post  cr  sta- 
tion. 

quat,  a  pimple. 

queasiness,  sickness  of  a  nau- 
seated  stomach,  distaste,  disgust. 

queasy,  nauseated,  disgusted,  deli- 
cate, unsettled. 

quell,  to  kill  ;  murder,  assassina- 
tion. 

quench.,  to  grow  cool. 

quern,  a  hand-mill  for  grinding 
corn,  made  from  two  correspond- 
ing stones. 

quest,  a  search,  an  inquiry,  an 
inquest,  an  impannelled  jury,  an 
inquisition. 

questant,  an  aspirant,  a  candi- 
date. 

question,  conversation,  a  point,  a 
topic  \  '.Q  converse. 

questionable,  easy  and  willing 
to  b:  conversed  with. 

qUOStrists,  persons  who  go  in 
quest  or  search  of  another. 

quick,  living,  alive,  inventive, 
quick-witted,  pregnant. 

quiddits,  and  quiddities,  legal 
quibblings,  equivocations. 

quietus,  an  Exchequer  term, 
which  denotes  that  an  accompt- 
ant  is  quity 

quillets,  sly  turns  in  argument, 
nice  and  frivolous  distinctions ; 
chicanery. 

quilt,  a  flock-bed. 

quintain,  originally  was  nothing 
more  than  the  trunk  of  a  tree  or 
post  set  up  for  the  practice  of 
the  tyros  in  chivalry, 

quip,  a  sharp  retort,  a  taunt. 

quire,  a  company ;  to  sing  in  con- 
cert. 

quit,  to  acquit,  to  requite,  to  retal- 
late,  to  avenge,  to  set  free. 

quittance,  an  acquittance,  a  dis- 
charge, a  requital  ;  to  requite. 

quiver,  nimble,  active. 

quote,  to  note,  to  mark, — formerly 
pronounced,  and  often  writtCB^ 
cote. 


R-KF.-s:i.:.r. 


K  called  Md  Uo^'s  ittl.r  fr.in  ii% 
resemblance  la  buutid  lo  llie  huoii- 
ing  of  a  dog. 

rabato,  a  kind  of  ruC  or  band  ;  it 
conies  from  rabattre,  \.o  f>ut  i>.i.  A\ 
because  it  w.is  at  first  mulling  l.ut 
the  collar  ot  ihc  sliirt  or  shift 
turned  back  towards  the  shoul- 
ders, 

rabbit-sucker,  a  snckinp  rabbit. 

rabole,  a  hand  of  inferior  spirit*. 

rable,.i:ii'Me. 

I'ace,  inborn  quality,  dispnsitlf.n, 
nature  ,  a  root. 

rack,  a  raass  of  vapory  clouds  ;  to 
move  like  vapor  ;  to  exafjcgcraic. 

rag",  a  term  of  conienipt,— a  rag- 
am  iiffin. 

ragrged,  bn  ken,  unequal,  — rough, 
'i-L^garly,  ba^c,  ignominious. 

rag-ingr-WOOd.  raging-mad, 

rak  .  t    <    vcr. 

rampaliian,  a  term  of  low  abuse. 

rank,    ,.    ruw  ;      grown    to     great 

hei^^l.t,  gross. 
rankncsc,  exuberance, 
rapture,  a  violent  seizure,  a  fit. 
rar   ly,  nicely,  happdy. 
rascal,    a    deer    lean   and   out    of 

>ea^on.  I 

rash,  sudden,  vifient. 
raught,  reached,  snatched  away,     i 
ravel  out,  to  unfold,  to  disclose.        . 
ravin,  t)  devour  eagerly  ;  ravening.  I 
ravin'd.  ravenous.  I 

rawly,  l.a>tily,  suddenly. 

rayed,  bcfunlcd. 

read,  vr  rede),  coun-cl,  advice 

rearly,  early. 

reason,  t)  c<<nveisr,  to  talk.  I 

rebate,  to  make  obuisc    t(j  dull. 

rebused.  (Juasi  ahund. 

receipt,  a  rcLcptacIc. 
receivinj?.  ready  apprehension.         i 
recheat.  •>  hunting-term  for  certain 
notes   sounded   on    the   horn,  cm- 
ployed  to  recall  the  do^s  from  a 
wriMig  scent  | 

reck.  I.e.. c. 

recOR-nizance,  a  badge,  a  token, 

recomforted,  comforted. 

record,  t  jsmg. 

recorder,  a  sort  <  f  flute  or  fiasco 

Ic-t 

re-deliver,  to  reinirt, 

reduce,  t  i  bring  batk. 

reechy   smoky,  greasy,  filthy. 

refelled.  refuted. 

refiUfe.  to  shelter,  to  pallialc.  .  . 

refuse.  "^  renounce,  lo  diftowa.  I      b 


rCrT-ird    •  •nftldcfJlKjn    a  virv 

re^if »     -  • 

re^  .. 

rej^ .... 

relent,  i  •  irp^^^ui. 

relumo.  i  ■  li^ht  ai;ain 

remain,  t  .  d«c :. 
remediate,  ubie  lu  gi«« 

re-  I.i..:.»c. 

remem]>*>r  »  ■  ••■•'  ■    '  •    ••  - 
rememb* 

I  nr  \  II, ' 

remembi.i;. 
rcmonstruucc 

a   .l.Klovrfv. 

remorse,  t' n  ; 

ot  heart. 

remotion.  a  r-n;  •. 
removrc'   ;  -f« 

rem 
rcnil    . 

t  . 
renej^e.  ; 
renyniK  ' 
repair.  ; 
repast   tic.. 
rrpastur"^   l     vition. 
repeal    i     r     .il.  a  recall, 
repine,  a  rrj.n  ing 
replenished.  cuuMimmAt*. 


pric. 

replication.    >  rr 

llMll. 

reprehend.    D.. 

f.-^tet,rtl. 

reprobance.  r 
reproof.  \.<'  dt  , 


r^ 


to  reMftt. 


repugn,  i 

reputing 
requ 
re«i 
rer»  ■: 
reserve 

curr!,.llv. 

resohitns  rfr^pt'tat 
resc". 


resi 

reM 
ro»i 

rr8i>«*.livrly. 
rest  ■■' 

\'- 

rs-H'. 


ia: 


rd. 


p«f 


ilrm 

'r«»L 


J?j;S  TFUL—SEA  M. 


restful,  quiet,  peaceful, 
resty,  torpid,  idle, 
retire,  a  retreat, 
retiring-,  returning, 
return,  to  make  known  to. 
reverbs,  reverberates. 
reverse,  u  fencing  term, 
revolts,  revolters,  rebels, 
re-word,  to  re-echo, 
rhexiraatic.  splenetic,  peevish. 
rib.  to  enclose. 

ribatidred.  lewd. 

ricll'd,  enriched. 

rid.  to  destroy. 

rig-g-isll.  wanton. 

rig-htly,  directlj--. 

rig"Ol,  a  circle. 

rim,  entrails. 

Ting--time.  time  for  marriage. 

ilingrwood,  a  common  name  for  a 

ripingr,  ripeness,  maturit)'. 

rivagre,  a  bank,  a  shore. 

xivality,  participation,  equality, 
of  rank. 

rivals,  partners,  associates. 

rive,  to  fire. 

rivo,  a  Bacchanalian  exclamation. 

road,  a  roadstead,  a  haven,  a 
journey,  an  inroad  ;  the  cant  term 
for  a  prostitute.  _ 

rognes,  wandering  beggars,  va- 
ccrant.s. 

TOiSting-,  bullying,  defying. 

romagre,  tumultnous  hurry  ;  ano- 
ther v\.y  of  writing  rjimtnage, 

'  Ondur;.  a  round,  a  belt. 
'Onyon^    a  mangy,    scabby    crea- 
ture. 

Ood — The,  The  cross,  the  crucifix, 
ok'd  squatted  down,  lodged, 
•oosted. 

..opery,  roguery. 

roiher,  a  horned  beast. 

round,  a  diadem  :  plain-spoken, 
unceremonious  ;  to  whisper. 

roundel,  a  dance. 

rouse  a  large  draught,  a  bumper, 
a  carouse. 

rout,  a  tumult,  a  multitude,  a 
rabble. 

royal,  a  gold  coin, 

roynish.,  mangy%  scabby,  paltry'. 

rubious,  red,  ruddy. 

ruddock,  the  redbreast. 

XUdesby,  a  rude  fellow,  a  blus- 
terer. 

3Mi:E3.e,  to  be  turbulent,  to  swag- 
ger. 

ruinate,  to  bring  to  ruin. 

Tule.  behavior. 

rumor  a  loud  murmur. 


S. 


Saba,  the  Queen  of  Sheba. 

sacred,  belonging  to  an  empress. 

sad.  serious. 

sadness,  seriousnets. 

Sag-ittary,  the  sign  of  the  5c- 
titjous  creature  so  called,  /.  e.  an 
animal  compounded  of  man  and 
horse,  and  armed  with  a  bow  and 
quiver. 

sain,  said. 

sallet,  or  salade,  a  close-fitting 
headpiece. 

salt,  a  salt-cellar. 

Saltiers.  Satyrs. 

Saming'O,  a  corruption  or  abbre- 
viation of  Saft  Domingo. 

sanctuarize,  to  shelter. 
sand-blind,     very     dim-sighted, 

P'jrb;ind. 
sanded,  of  a  sandy  coior. 
sans,  without  (,/r.j. 
satire,  satirist. 
sauce,     (in    vulgar     Ianguage\    to 

serve  out  ;   to  treat  insolently,  to 

abuse. 
savagre.  silvan,  uncultivated. 

savagrery,  wild  growth. 
sawn,  sown. 

say,  an  assay,  a  sample,  a  taste. 

say,  a  kind  of  serge,  made  entirely 
of  wcol. 

say'd,  assayed. 

scald,  properly  "scabby,"  but  used 
as  a  word  of  contempt,  implying 
povert}-,  disease,  and  filth. 

SCall,  used  by  Sir  Hugh  Evans  for 
ssald. 

SCamble.  to  scramble. 

scantling,  a  certain  proportion,  a 
portion. 

scape,  a  sally,  an  act  of  lewdness, 
a  freak. 

SCath.e,  hurt,  damage  ;  to  hurt,  tc 
injure. 

scattered,  divided,  unsettled,  dis- 
united. 

sconce,    a    round    fortification,    a 
I       head  :  to  ensconce,  to  hide. 

scornful,  scorned. 
I  scotch.,  to  make  incisions,  to  score 
I      or  cut  slightly. 

scotches,  cuts. 
!  scrimers.  fencers. 
I  scrip,  a  slip  of  writing. 

scrippag-e.  the  contents  of  a  scrips 

scroyles,  scabby  fellows. 

sculls,  shoals. 

'SCUSe,  an  excuse. 
I  scut,  a  tail. 

L,  grea*e,  lard. 


SEARCH-  S/ML  L  A  Jt. 


search,  to  yt  ( .- 

Shafalos.  /v.vr.,.  Llu»dff»  (o< 

season,  ti.c 

..-».     rrpcrU, 

seconds,  i  \ 

-C.    Ml.,1     Lill.l 

shells  lb*  oator  cmu  oI 

leiic«l    after  ti.e   %iu^\.rt    |,f>u    i» 

«) 

sifted. 

sect.  >cx  ;  a  ciiiting. 

secure,  carclc**.  over-conftilcnt. 

securely,     carvle«iiy,     o\-er-conA- 

•1>                       enu  el  Wokmi  y/en- 

,|^„flv 

wnr^ 

B<^-   '  ;    -  ^  ,             '     '      -. 

•l!  .  :  .   .  i 

St  ■                                   "-ve*.  to  l.lln.l  ; 

!.4lci>nry. 

■hr.ii.'a 

3icnun«-.          '■     .>;-;'«Jrjiitc,     »|.«- 

shearman.  •'••-  "*■■'  ».-.' 

.  :    UH.  s.piTiU  .  he.  '>minnlv. 

V,i  ,I.,ih. 

aepTeg-ation.  a  »c|..,tjtion.  a  cli%- 

•heav'd  *'•/.  •  •«raw  >iat 

)'•  r^oii. 

•heen.  sbnuni;.  bncbt 

sei3'd.  I>•l^»c^*•d  (4  law-icrin). 
s-!rl.  -Mom. 

sheep-biter,  a  cam   u; 

soldom-when.  rarely,  not  often. 

•  h.---     -•■•'-:-    •' 

Seld-ShOWU  /.'.;  //^^.i.  l.ric\t%  ^\\n 

B). 

vrl!    in  cxfui>it  liicniNclvo  in  piih- 
li  :  view. 

8l: 

self-admission,     tclf- allowance. 

,     r  ,,,,,,    1,  ,t 1,111 

Sli. 

•self-bounty,  inherent  RenerA^Ity 

semblable.  .t  resemblance,  a  likc- 

ilrcs*. 

1      ~.  I'k-.  simil.ir. 

•hive.  "lice. 

Semblably.  in  like  manner. 

•hock,  t  •  >"<-et  f.  rcr  »■■»-  f— — 

Semblative.  r«;*emblin|:. 

shOR.  !     1   .; 

seniory.  *cniority. 

shoon.  •     --^ 

sennet,  -t  p.irticnl.»r  «et  of  notes  on 

shore.  1  -  ♦«■:  «ii  »h,.'« 

t'  <■  (Miniix-t  or  ornrt. 

short.  '  >  ■    ^Mc  »hort  of. 

Seiioys.  iIk-  Sirnnexe. 

•hot.  -      ;rr 

sense,      sensation,     »en«ual      pa* 

•hotten  i:."imc.  »  h<'»^' 

M    ■  I . . 

b  j«  c  j^t  II  \  sp.4»  n 

septentrion—  Tkr,  The  north. 

•boUffh^.  a  sKjwCV  km! 

sequent, ;« JulU.wer. 

.h-^Mbt-.-.^l-.^tf.... 

equ ester,  a  ^equcktration,  a  •ep- 

•  ). 

SerB-eant,    a    l.allifT.     a     »henfl*. 

wiiK  It     ■I'jx^.it^     {«•     ii.<«c 

SCipiK'O.    a    sort    of   tetter   or   dry 

little,  if  at  all.  from  Ibal  .- 

f  ;  ..;.:i    11  on  i!ie  »kin. 

/..J.    : 

servant.  .i  l.-vcr. 

8l.                            frw. 

si-TVauted.  Mibjected. 

•^                              •*•      ... 

sessa,  l-eijiiici. 

•  1,;                 .1,          »HnU  tbi«-*t»d. 

set.    t'l    V.l'uj*  :       a  n:.:                            -      'M 

appointment  (in  lb- 

■  brow.  J  »'  tew. 

of   thievcn,   pl.in   i» 

H^iowil.  •        •^'    I  cottctioii. 

-.fit    u-tii  /.'.mV,    a    Uiiu    Ji.  u» 

t'-imi» 

So^^ebos.  T  K'"' «'«vil. 

H>_                                                    il>»l»ible. 

setter,     one     ulio     W;»ti-he»,      and 

»'                                                  ■*'•            ... 

I    :ni«  out   to   t>i*  comrade*,    the 

St,                              '   ifM^d  is  Ike 

^.         ii«  to  be  pliimlrrt-il. 

several,     t.-    U     iN.a     wer«     cn- 

,            \     \v '-    -     111     trx\r^h.     III 

:;■                ^ 

It^    :i  1         ■ '..•«;,•*!. 

•  :.    .                                         ■';»• 

sewer.   .»n  ofti'  er,  who  placed   lh« 
she*    on   the   table,  look    ihcm 
off.  Ac. 


•impliclly  •     ^ 

•  JHlllft*.      a     ti-^1  aUlot,      cnul 
(curd. 


28 


SINGLE—SPRA  G. 


Singrle.  weak,  feeble,  simple,  void 
of  suile 

singularities,  curiosities,  rarities. 

Sink-a-pace,  a  corruption  of 
■  inqne-J>ace. 

sir,  a  gentleman,  a  gallant,  a 
courtier. 

sirrah,  a  familiar  address  ;  an  ad- 
dress to  a  woman. 

sir-reverence,    a   corruption    of 

save-revere>ice^  an  old  formula  of 
apology  for  introducing  any  too 
free  or  indelicate  expression. 

sister,  to  resemble  closely,  to  be 
near  to. 

sith.,  since. 

sithence,  since, 

sizes,  allowances, 

skains-mates,  companion  scape- 
graces. 

skill,  reason. 

^skills  fiot — It,  It  matters  not,  it 
m.ikes  no  difference. 

skipper,  a  youngster. 

skirr,  tci  m  )ve  rapidly,  to  scour. 

slab,  slabby,  glutinous. 

slack,  to  he  remiss  in,  to  neglect, 

slanderOtlS,  the  object  of  slander. 

sleave  and  sleave-silk,  soft  floss 
silk,  used  for  weaving. 

sleeve,  worn  as  a  favor. 

sleeve-hand,  a  cuff,  a  wrist-band, 
.-iltered  to  sleeve-band. 

sleeveless,  useless,  unprofitable. 

sleided  ^^ilk.  untwisted  silk. 

sleight,  an  artifice. 

slight,  a  contraction  of  by  his 
(tiod's)  light. 

slighted,  pitched. 

slip,  a  piece  of  false  money,  sy- 
nonymous with  coHnterfeit. 

slip,  the  noose  by  which  grey- 
noundswere  held  before  they  were 
allowed  to  start  for  the  game  ; 
to    loose    the     hounds    from    the 

s:l'-f>. 

sliver,  to  cleave,  to  slice  off.  to 
tear  off  ;  a  slip,  a  portion  cut  or 
broken  off. 

slobbery,  sloppj'. 

slop.  large  loose  trousers  or 
breeches. 

Slow'd,  made  slow,  retarded. 

slubber,  to  obscure,  to  soil,  to  do 
carelessly  or  imperfectly. 

smatch,  a  smack,  a  taste,  a  tinc- 
ture. 

srailets.  the  diminutive  of  smiles. 

smooth,  to  caress,  to  fl.ntter. 

smug,  neat,  spruce,  trim. 

Smulkin.  a  fiend. 

smutch'd,  blackened  with  soot. 


snatches,  shuffling,  quibbling 
answers. 

Sneap,  to  check,  to  nip  ;  a  check, 
a  rebuke,  a  snubbing. 

snick-up,  an  exclamation  of  con- 
tempt. 

snipe,  a  silly  fellow. 

snuff —  To  take  in,  to  be  angry,  to 
take  offence  ;  an  object  of  con- 
tempt. 

snuffs,  angers,  offence-takings, 

SOilure,  stain,  defilement. 

solace,  to  render  mirthful,  to  take 
pleasure,  to  amuse. 

solely,  alone 

solicit,  to  move. 

soliciting,  incitement. 
^  solidares.  coin. 

solve,  solution. 

sometime,  formerly. 

sometimes,  formerly. 

soon  at.  about. 

sooth,    truth,   sweetness,    softness, 

true. 
soothe,  to  flatter. 
sore   (or    soare),    a    buck     of    the 

fourth  ycdr. 
sorel,  a  buck  of  the  third  year. 
sort,  a  company,  a  crew  ;  to  class, 

to  choose,    to  suit,   to  accord,  to 

adapt,  to  frame,    to  associate,    to 

bring  to  a  good  issue,  to  fall  out ; 

rank,  quality. 
SOrtance.  suitableness,  agreement, 
sorts,  different  degrees. 
sot.  a  fool. 

soul-fearing,  soul- terrifying. 
souse,  to  rush  down  on  and  strike 

with  violence. 
SOwl.  to  lug,  to  seize. 
Sowter — /.  e.  Cobbler, — the  name 

of  a  hound. 

span-counter,  a  pastime. 
speciously,     a    blunder    of    Mrs. 

Quickly  ^'V  specially. 
speculation,    vision,     faculty    of 

sight. 
speculative,  visual. 

speed,  hap,  fortune. 

sperr.  to  shut,  to  bar.  to  make  fast. 

'spials,  espials,  spies. 

spill,  to  destroy. 

spilth,  a  spilling,  an  effusion. 

Spital,  an  hospital. 

spleen,  humor,  caprice,  incon- 
stancy, haste  in  excess,  violent 
mirth. 

Spleeny,  ill-tempered,  peevish, 

splinter,  to  splint. 

spotted,  stained,  polluted. 
sprag,    or    spracky    ready,    quick. 
alert. 


sPK/yC-STXA  lAChM 


spring',  a  beginning,  a  young  »hooe 

of  ;«  I  ICC, 
spurs,    the    UlcrjJ    ihooU    of    the 

r.M.t,  of  ttrcs. 

squandered.  ili»per»«d.  Kaitercti 

square,     equitable,    suitable  ;     \<> 

<|u.iricl 
squarer.  a  quarreler, 
squares.  vi<iadri>n». 
squash    .m  unri|>e  |>eaicod, 
squiuy.  v>  lo  k  avjumt. 
squire,  a  s<|ujre,  a  rule. 
Stablish.  t.  e>labh»h. 
Stablishment.  an  e>tabli»hmenl. 

.1  settled  inheritance,  a  kingdom. 
Stag'e.  tu  exhibit  publicly,  to  repre- 
sent on  the  sta^e. 
stain,  tincture,  di^prace. 
stale.  .<  decoy,  a  b.<il,  a  pretence,  a 

nuisk.  .4  c.int  term  f'.r  a  prostitute. 

a  l.tunhing  stock  '  to  make  cheap 

or  Common. 
stalk,  tu  creep  stealthily  and  stoop- 

inely. 
Stall,    to  dwell,    to   keep  cIo*e,   to 

inst.ill,  to  invest, 
stanch,  n.t  to  be  broken,  united. 
BtanchleSS.     not    to  be  stanched. 

in-.iti.itc. 
stand  w/t't,  or  OH,  to  cncerti,  to 

interest,  to  be  of  consequence  to  ; 

to  pride  one's  self  on.  to  insist  on. 
standard,    a   standard-bearer,    an 

cnsii;!!. 
standing',  continuance,  direction 
Staniel,   .m    inferior,  but  beautiful 

sp'.cics  of  falcon. 
stark  stiff. 

starting-hole,  an  evasion. 
Btart-Vip.  .Ill  upstart, 
starve,  to  deprive  of  power, 
state    .1    r.iised    chair,    a    chair    of 

si.ite.  a  i>crson  of  hi>;h  rank, 
station,    an    attitude,    the   act   of 

st.iiuiiiiK,  the  stale  of  repose. 
statist,  a  statesman, 
statue,    synonymous    with    "  pic- 

tlirr  " 

statute,  its  legal  signiflcatioo,  that 

of    a    fcccuriiv    or    obligation    for 

money. 
statutes,  particular  mode*  of  re- 

co^;ni/ancc  or  acknowledgment  for 

scciirin){  debts, 
staves,   the  woo<i  of  the  lance*.- 

l..Mces. 
stead,  to  .-issist,  to  benefit. 
stell'd  fixed. 
Stelled.  starry. 

stem,     the     prow    or    f"r.-;w,t     .(      J 

slup. 

8terna«e.  steerage, 


■tloklar.  one  »h  J  sir.  .J  ty  to  p«M 
lh«  coin(>aian*t  vkca  v*<t<iry 
could  be  «i«c«tmuM4  WMImwI 
I       blood%Hed. 

SUir.  »-■  !      .     :•  ^*-..r.| 

Stitfi  ■  »ta*« 

^Stlifl:.     •        >. 

•tlnc>  •*«ual  iiaMton 
!  Stint,   to  ceaM,  to  Slot     ' 
»t  .(. 
stltchery.  ne«dlewofk 
Stlthied.    (ormrd  oo   ih*  Uilk  «• 

stithy,  a  forge. 
;  StOCCadO.  a  l>>r  -.xX  in  fcr    \:t. 


staccata 
stock   a  , 
stock,   a 

8tix:k-ksh. 
■tomnch. 

dried  cod 

s?:;'  '     fr, 

1  r. 

,  ston. 
stono-tKjw 

st^l-bill! 

stoop,  or   i 

1      sicntfy  a 

,... 

a  r^"'- 

\^j'- 

1     ..  .  - 

in    the    air 

«p«« 

1      larger  v 
-to     rush 
a    height 
prey. 
Store,  use 

Story,  to  t 

stout.    U! 

.tab. 

)>.  fn 

•toutneas. 

n«-\\, 
StOVf*-    '     ' 

obstiaarjr. 

•<mM 

bant 

Stru 
straiVht-pi 

iipiiKht. 

Strain 

strui: 

■trui* 
•trui.f 

stru: 

i«ht. 

Id* 

:.     tt...  :«.y 
a    dr«*aftil 

9tm 

■trai.*, 
■tra.n«f«<i  il 
•trMi>p«do 

strmta^m. 

calamity 

aMlk. 

STRAY'— TAKE. 


stray,  a   dereliction,  stragglers;   to  ' 
mislead.  i 

stricture,  strictness. 

strike,  (a  naval  term),  to  lower  the 
-.lils  ;  to  tap. 

strikers,  borrowe  s,  thieves. 

SCroug",  determined. 

i  crossers.  tight  close  drawers. 

SCUCii.    more  properly  stock,  an  ab- 
rc\  i  (lion  of  stoccado. 

KtuSc.  luggage,  movables. 

t.^yX'i—Aggrnvate  his  :  s&^  aggra- 
7-are. 

sabscribe.  to  yield,  to  give  way.      ' 

subscription,    submission,     obe- 

substractors,  detractors.  I 

subtilties,   confections  ;    when   a 
dish  was  so  contrived  as  to  appear 
unlike    what   it  really  was,   called  ; 
a  subtilty. 

subtle,  smroth. 

succeeding",  a  consequence.  I 

success,    a   succession,   the    issue 
the  sequel,  the  consequence  of   a  | 
thing.  I 

successively,    by   order   of    sue-  ' 
cessi   n. 

sudden,  hasty,  violent.  i 

SUg-gest,  10  tempt,  to  incite,  to 
seduce. 

suggestion,  temptation,  seduc- 
tion, 

suit,  to  clothe  ;  suit-service,  ser- 
vice due  to  a  superior  lord. 

suited,  arranged. 

SUllens.  moroseness. 

SUmleSS.  not  to  be  computed,  in- 
estimable. 

summoners.  oflRcers  that  sum- 
nioii  ohenders  before  a  proper 
tribunal. 

SUmpter,  a  horse  to  carr^-  neces- 
s_iries  on  a  journey. 

SUn-btU'ned,  uncomely,  homely, 
iiUfavore^?. 

superfluous,  possessed  of  more 
tnan  enough. 

superserviceable.  over-oflficious. 
supplyant.  suppletory.  auxiliarj'. 
Supplyment,    a    continuance    of 

supposal,  a  notion,  a  belief, 
suppose,  a  supposition. 
SUr-addition,  a  surname,  an   ad- 
ditional name. 
Surance  an  assurance, 
surcease,  to  cease  ;  a  cessation. 
SUrfeiter.  a  glutton,  a  reveler, 
Sur-reined.  over-worked, 
suspect,  suspicion. 
SUSpiration,    the  act  of  drawing 


the  breath  from  the  bottom  of  the 
breast. 

suspire,  to  breathe. 

swabber,  a  sweeper  of  the  deck  of 
a  vessel. 

swart,  or  szvarth,  black,  "^usky. 

SWasbers,  swaggerers.  bragga- 
docios. 

SWasMng.  swaggering,  blustering, 
dashing. 

sway,  to  incline. 

sweet-and  twenty,  twenty 

times  sweet,  a  term  oi  endear- 
ment. 

sweeting,  a  kind  of  sweet  apple, 
and  used  as  a  term  of  endear- 
ment. 

swift  ready. 

SWinge-bucklers,  riotous  blades, 
roisterers. 

swinged,  whipped. 

Swithold.  the  contraction  of  Saint 
Wit  hold. 

SWOOpstake,  by  wholesale,  un- 
distinguishingly. 

SWOrder,  a  swordsman,  a  cut- 
throat, a  gladiator. 

sworn-out.  forsworn,  renounced. 

SWOUnds.  swoons. 

sympathy,  an  affection  incident 
at  once  to  two  subjects. 

T. 

table,  in  the  language  of  palmistry 
or  chiromancy,  the  whole  collec- 
tion of  lines  on  the  skin  within 
the  hand  ;  a  panel  surface  on 
which  a  picture  is  painted,  a 
memorandum  book. 

tabled,  set  down  in  writing. 

tables,  backgammon  (and  other 
games  played  with  the  same  board 
and  dice). 

tabourines.  small  drum.s. 

tag.  the  common  people,  the  rabble. 

tainttire.  defilement. 

take,  to  bewitch,  to  affect  with 
malignant  influence,  to  strike,  to 
take  refuge  in  ; — in,  to  conquer, 
to  subdue  ; — on,  to  be  angry,  to 
rage,  to  simulate,  to  pretend  :^ 
order,  to  adopt  measures,  to  make 
necessary  dispositions  ; — out^  to 
copy  ; — peace  zvith .  to  forgive.  tf» 
pardon  : — the  head,  to  act  with 
out  restraint,  to  take  undue  liben 
ties  ; — thought,  to  turn  melan- 
choly ; — icp,  to  settle,  to  make  up, 
to  obtain  goods  on  credit,  to 
take  commodities  upon  trust,  ^ 
levy. 


TAKtSG- TOUCH. 


takin|r<    witihcry,    malignanl    ia- 

lliiciicc. 

talent.  tali>ii. 

tall,  able,  l><>lcj.  fttoul. 

tanff.  a  twang  ;  tu  iwang,  to  hag 

otil. 

tanlingv.  t>cr«on<  »ul>ject  to  ihc 
(.tiiniiit;  iiiflitciice  of  the  »un. 

tardy.  lo<icby.  lu  hinder. 

tarre.  lu  provuke,  tu  incite,  t 
■  III. 

tarriance.  a  >iay,  a  larr)-ing. 

task.  i'>  keep  busy,  to  occupy,  to 
I  li.illriijjc.  to  tax. 

taS8el-e«ntle.  properly  tirreel- 
i;<-ntlf,  the  male  of  ihc  goshawk. 

taste,     a     trial,    tu    try,    tu    ywts*  , 
I'l    iiitMi-,    ia     another     «kay    <>( 
saying    iu  »ome  measure    or    de- 
gree. 

tawdry-lac«.  a  nutic  nnklacc. 

taxatiou,   censure,   !k.«tire,    invec 

M\r. 

taxing'.  ccnMire,  satire,  invective. 

teen.  >;ricf,  trmiMr.  vexation. 

temper,  tcmpcranicni,  cuatlitu- 
tion  ;  lu  mould,  tu  work,  tu  (ash* 
ion.  to  compound,  to  work  to 
ijcthcr  to  A  pro(>cr  consistence. 

temperance.  iciM(>craiurc. 

tender,  to  ic)>ard.   to  take  care  of  ; 

i< .;  ir'l.  kind  concern,  care, 

tenner,  tcnour. 

tent,  a  roll  of  lint  for  ftearching  nr 
clcansint;  a  w  ound  or  tore,  a  probe  ; 

to  J.rohr. 

tercel.  i">l'-  hawk. 
Termatrant   •«  Saracen  deity, 
terminations  »    "^   ir.inv 
termless     '«-\ 

tt-rms  <•!  wiiti'. 
test     ff:"^    o|.'   .    , 

cviilrm  c. 
tested,  purr. 
tester,    a   coin,   the    value   of   ua- 

,,e..e. 

testril.  a  Mxpence 

tetchy.  i"ii<hy.  |>ecvi»h.  fretful 

tetter,  t"  mfett  with  tetter,  »cab 

V.  iirf. 
thane.  »  '««'«?  of  honor.  u»ed  am  >n^ 
i(u-  an   iciii  S<  Hi*. 

tharboroug-h.    *«  torrupu 

tliooric.  .1  tfir    ry. 

thick.  t.ii>i<llv. 

thick-pleached,  thukly  n.;' 
woven. 

thirdborough.  the  office  . 

^..mc  »  ith  that  of  cnnUable 
thouRht.  melancholy, 
thread  'tmJ  tkrmm,  the 


of  eh*  w»r|»,  Um  »mall  tuk  W 

th'Jri!    ■   .: 

thr. 


thwu:' 

Tib. 
tlco 

tlck-r  .   ,- 

tick: 
Uck. 

tidy.                                       ,    .B.;. 
tlKJit 

tike - 

tllly-vally.  an  inirr;< 

irnipt 
tilth,  land   tilled,  pfepar- 

.1^,:.    tillage. 

timeless,  unttmciy. 

tim*»lv   -■-■  ^ 
tinct 

if.<- 

>  u 

tire.  ;    , 

tT>- 

Ollsty.   |o  liiiliC  ,    •!•   «i 

a  head  «lfe»% 

tire  valiant,  •owe  »f « 

>irj,l-<lrr»». 

U  m 

•:''::';.-       a    diVltfOtI    ol    •    pUl 

19,    • 

in 
of     , 

0»r:i 

toasts  and-butf  r.  i""*  oi 


toplsM 

lortlvf 


I     thf 


J    L-'L/O.Cl- 


■uj.^Mji:..n.r, 


touse,  to  pull,  to  pluck,  to  tear, 
to  draw. 

toward  and  towards,  in  a  state  of 
preparation,  forthcoming,  at  hand. 

tower,  particularly  applied  to  cer- 
tain hawks,  &c.,  which  tower  aloft, 
and  thence  swoop  upon  their  prey. 

toy.  a  trifle,  a  fancy,  a  freak  of 
imagination. _ 

toys,  rumors,  idle  reports, 

trace,  to  follow. 

trade,  resort,  traffic,  general  course. 

traded,  practised,  versed,  expe- 
rience'i. 

traducement,  calumny. 

trains,  artifices,  stratagems. 

trammel,  tie  up,  or,  net  up. 

translate,  to  transform,  to 
change. 

transport,  to  remove  from  this 
world  to  the  next. 

trash.,  a  strap,  a  rope  dragging 
loose  on  the  ground. 

trash,  to  cut  away  the  super- 
fluities ;  a  hunting  term  for  check- 
ing or  stopping  the  dogs,  when 
too  forward. 

travel,  stroll. 

traverse,  (a  term  in  fencing)  to 
use  a  pos.ure  of  opposition,  or  to 
oppose  a  .movement ;  (a  military 
term)  to  march. 

tray-trip,  a  game  at  cards,  played 
wuh  dice  as  well  as  with  cards. 

treachers.  traitors. 

treaties,  entreaties,  supplications. 

trench,  to  cut,  to  carve, 

trencher-knight,_  one  who  holds 
a  trencher,  a  parasite. 

trick,  a  peculiarity,  a  course,  a 
manner,  knack,  a  toy.  a  puppet ; 
— «/,  deck  out,  adorn  with. 

tricking",  decoration,  dress. 

tricksy,  clever,  adroit,  dextrous, 
quaint,  affected. 

trifle,  a  phantom  ;  to  make  of  no 
importance. 

trigron.  triangle. 

triird.  trickled. 

trip  and ^o,  the  name  of  a  favorite 
morris-dance ;  a  proverbial  ex- 
pression fur  "  I  dare  not  tarry." 

triple,  third,  one  of  three. 

tristful,  sad,  sorrowful. 

triumph,  a  general  term  for  pub- 
lic exhibiti'-ns  of  various  kinds. 

Trojan,  a  cant  term,  sometimes  of 
reproach,  sometimes  of  commend- 
ation. 

troll,  to  sing  with  volubility. 

troU-my-dames,  the  game  of 
Troll-madam  was  borrowed  from 


the   French  {Trou-madame)  i   an 

old    English     name     for     it    was 

Pigeon-holes. 
tropically,  figuratively. 
trot,  an  old  w  man. 
trow,    to    think,    to    conceive,    to 

believe. 
true,  honest. 

trundle-tail,  a  curly-tailed  dog. 
trunk  sleeve,  a  large,  wide  sleeve. 
try.  a  trial,  a  test. 
tuck,  a  rapier. 
tucket,    a   certain  set  of  notes  on 

the  trumpet,  a  flourish. 
tuition,  protection. 
tun-dish,  a  wooden  funnel. 
Turk— 7«r«,  a  figurative  expres- 
sion for  a  change  of  condition  or 

opinion. 
turn,  to  return. 
twiggen,    made   of.   or  cased    in, 

twigs  or  wicker-work. 
twinn'd,  like  as  twins. 
twire,    to  peep  out,   to  gleam   or 

appear  at  intervals. 
Tybalt,  a  cat  was  called  Tybert  or 

Tybalt.  _ 
t3rpe,  a  distinguishing  mark. 

TJ. 

unaccommodated,  unfurnished 
w  i.h  the  conveniences  of  life. 

UnaCCUStom'd,  unseemly,  inde- 
cent. 

unadvised,  not  knowing. 

unavoided,  unavoidable,  inevit- 
a  be. 

unbarbed,  unshorn,  untrimmed. 

unbated.  unblunted,  without  a 
button  on  the  point. 

unbolt,  to  open,  to  explain. 

Unlaolted.  unsifted,  gross,  utter. 

Unbreath'd,  unexercised,  anprao 
tised. 

uncape.  throw  off  the  dogs. 

uncharge,  acquit. 

uncharged  ports,  unassaulted 
gates. 

unchary,  incautious. 

unchilded.  deprived  of  children. 

Unclew.  to  unwind,  to  undo. 

uncoined  real,  true,  umcfined, 
unadorned. 

UnCOmprehensive,  incompre- 
hensible, mysterious. 

unconfirmed,  unpractised  in  th« 
ways  of  the  world. 

uncouth  (meaning  properly  "un« 
known'"),  unusual,  strange. 

Uncurse,  to  free  from  execration/ 

Undeaf,  to  free  from  deafness. 


USDERDED-  VRCmS. 


Andeeded,  not  »ignalitcd  by  ac-    unnoaAfMsltiir.  kaTtaf  bo 

tioll. 

uuder-bear,  to  guaid    to  faoa,  m 

tiiiii,  Im  iiiidcriso. 
undergo,  to  iiii<lcriiike.  lo  t>e  %\x\ 


i«     o( 


jc<  t  to,  lo  fttixtuin,  lo  kuppori,  to     ttnprlmable,     inrMiflutbU.    pne»* 

cndiirr  w  ilh  riimiio*.  '    ^.      !■      »     j  .    •. 


uuder-skinker. .«»  undcr-cirnwcr: 

.'>X;»..i*  IS  ti'ink,  lo  uktnk  i»  4  > 
<f'>  .1  :c  ./f  ink.  ami  ;»  skiuktr  \%  one 
\\\.a  s.f-:  ft  ,/r,Hk  ,it  l,tNf. 

undertake,    to  en^a  «  wiih.    to  | 
.iti.iLL,  lu  take  chaise  of.  to  ven-     uiipt 

iiiir.  lo  h.i/.ir-l,  to  aNMimc.  w 

undertaker,  <■"«  who  underuikc*  ' 

iT   l.ikcs  up    ttic    qiiurrrl    nr   bu»i-  ,  u; 
iic^t  <  i  aiiotlici  ;  aiuckcr,  assail-  I 
ant.  lu' 

under-wrought,     underworked,  I  u  : 

liiulcriiiincd.  I  11  • 

undeserving'  //.j/i,-,  praise  un 

c'.'-rrvcd. 
Unear'd,  unplowcd,  nnlillrd. 
unoath.  s'  .>rLcly,  hardly. 
unefTectual.  ^hining  without  heat 
unequal.  imju»i. 
iinexperient.  inexperienced, 


Uiipruportiuucd 


i   utim«(>n«ti.  ur;^(ttc4 

iblo   >/!'il    Am,  K 
atton 


11 


uns.  iiin  .1 
unseminarM 


unfurnish.  to  deprive,  to  dive»t.    i  i 
unhair.  to  strip  c.n  hair. 


unexpressive.  incxpre»*ible,  in-     un.shiip*^'* 

rft..Mc,  _  _  U:      ■ 

unfair,    lo  deprive  of  faiinc»»,  u(     ii 

Unfather'd       Aein,        equivocal  in: 

t.  to  deprive 

strip  on  hai 

Unhair*d     sitmcimets,     unl>earded 


unhappied   m.i!'-  ut.h.ippy. 
unhappily,  i  ■;     ''^^     -^ly. 
iinhappinesa.  no-  i.iri. 
unhappy,    nuM.hicvuu»,    rogui»h, 

unhearta.  divrourage*, 
unhoused,     (rce     Irom     domestic 

.11' ^.  iiiiiii. (tried. 
unimproved.      unrepr«.ved,      un 

.  'iiMiicd,  iiMint(>C4i  he<l. 
union.  ^  pearl  of  ihe  finest  kind, 
unjust.  di-.hi.nc»i. 
unkind,  iiiinaiural.  rhildlcM. 
unliv'd.  I'crell  of  life, 
iinlustrous.  devi.id  orhi%ire, 
unmaster'd.    unre»uaine<i,   liten 

unmfiritable.  devoid  of  metil 

unowed.  u  ...wnetl. 

unpink'd.  not  pierced  with  rreltt- 

unpitied.  immerciful. 
unplausive.  not  applauding,  not 

•':.'i"  *■•">! 
unpolicied.  withou:  policy. 


tihty. 


I  in  now  ed. 


untaught,  rudeunmannerl^r.^ 

unt<»nt^ 


uuv»  ini'i'.i  a  —    

unwlttad.     depn*rd     ©< 


4* 


URCinX-SHOU'S-  IVA  SSAIL. 


urchin-shows    fairy  shows. 

ui'ch in-snouted,   with  a  snout 

like  that  of  a  hedgehog. 

usance,  interest  of  money. 

use,  usance,  interest  of  money, 
present  possession,  profit,  benefit, 
custom,  common  occurrence ;  to 
continue,  to  make  a  practice  of. 

Utis,  Utis,  or  rather  Utas,  quasi 
huitas  :  irom  hm't,  French.  The 
eighth  day,  or  the  space  of  eight 
days,  after  any  festival.  It  was  a 
law  term,  and  occurs  in  some  of  | 
our  statutes.  I 

Utter,  to  sell.  I 

^-  i 

vade,  to  fade.  I 

vail,    to  lower,   to  let  fall ;  a  sink- 
ing, a  setting. 
'vailful.  ava'ilful. 
vails,  perquisites. 
vain,    light    of    tongue,    not    vera- 

C!OU  <. 

valenced,  fringed, 
validity,  worth,  value. 
vanity,  a  magical  show  or  illusion. 
vantagre.  ^n  opportunity.  I 

vantbrace,      a     vam  brace — avant  ' 

bras,  or  armor  for  the  fore  arm.         | 
varlet,    a   servant  to  a   knight   or 

warrior,  (also  simply)  a  ser%-ant. 
varletry.  a  rabble. 
vary,  variation,  caprice, 
vast,  a  waste. 

Vastidity.  vastness,  immensity, 
vastly,  like  a  waste. 

vasty,  vast. 

vaunt,  the  van. — the  beginning. 
vaunt-couriers,  forerunners,  pre- 

curs.ors. 
Vaward,  the  forepart,  properly,  of 

an  army. 
vegretives.  vegetables,  plants. 

velure.  velvet. 

velvet-gruards,  the  higher  rank 
of  female  citizens. 

vengeance,  mischief,  harm. 

venomous  wights,  those  who 
practice  nocturnal  sorcery. 

ventages,  smaH  holes  or  aper- 
tures. 

venue  or  T'eney,  (a  fencing  term)  a 
thrust,  a  coming  on,  an  onset  ;  a 
turn  or  bout :  a  hit. 

verbal,  verbose,  full  of  talk,  plain- 
spoken. 

via,  away  !  an  iinterjection  of  ex- 
ultation or  encouragement. 

Viej  to  hazard,  to  put  down  a  cer- 
tain sum  upon  a  hand  of  cards. 


viewless,  invisible. 

vigitant.   a  blunder  of  Dogberry 

f<:.r  ■■  \  igiiant."' 
vinewedst.  most  mouldy. 

viol-de-g-amboys,  a  base-viol  or 

viol  da  ganiba. 
Violenteth,    acts    with    violence, 

rages. 
virg-in-knot,  virgin-zone. 
virtue,  essence,  valor. 
virtuous,  salutiferous.  beneficial. 
visiting"  and  ■visitating,  inspect- 
ing, surveying. 
vizaments  (in  Sir  Hugh's  dialect, 

advise}ncnts^,  considerations. 
voice,    to    nominate,    to    vote,    to 

rumor,  to  report,  to  proclaim. 
void,  to  quit. 
'voided,  avoided. 
VolqueSSen.    the    anciert    name 

for   the  country    now    called  the 

J  'ejctn, 
voluntary,  a  volunteer. 
voyage,  a  course,  an  attempt,  an 

enterprise. 
vulgar,  common. 
vulgarly,  publicly,  openly, 
vulgars,  the  common  people. 

w. 

waft,  to  beckon,  to  turn,  to  direct. 

waftage,  a  passage  by  water. 

wafture  the  act  of  waving,  a 
motion. 

wag,  to  go,  to  pack  off.  to  stir. 

wage,  to  be  opposed  as  equal  stakes 
in  a  wager  ;  to  prosecute,  to  con- 
tinue to  encounter. 

waist,  that  part  of  a  ship  which  is 
contained  between  the  quarter- 
deck and  forecastle. 

wake,  to  hold  a  late  revei. 

walk,  a  district  in  a  forest. 

wanion,  vengeance,  plague. 

wann'd.  turned  pale. 

wanting,  not  po:>sessing,  not 
skilled  in. 

wanton,  a  childish,  feeble,  effem- 
inate person. 

wappen'd,  over-worn. 

ward,  to  defend,  to  protect  ;  cus- 
tody, confinement. 

warden-pies,  pies  made  of  zvar- 
defis,  large  baking  pears. 

warder,  a  sort  of  truncheon. 

warn,  to  summon. 

wash'd  a  tiiCy  labored  in  vain. 

wassail,  festivity,  intemperance, 
drinking  bout  (from  the  Saxon 
7VCPS  hcely  "  be  in  health," — the 
form  of  health-drinking). 


n'A  /    ;//;/. 


•/at.  .1  familiar  f.ame  for  ■  h«r«. 
Water-g'alls.  tMrcondary  rainbow*, 
watery  i.'ar—  J  Ar,  The  moon 
way.    w  :»>•    of    thinking,    rcligioti» 

weals-men,  commonwealth  men. 

IcKi^L.turs. 
wealth,  weal,  benefit,  advantage, 
wear,  i.'^hion. 
weather  — 7V>  ><■<•«•/ /A*-,  A  namlcal 

plira-c.  which   nie.iiiA   to   keep  to 

wiiulwarci,    and  thu»  have  the  ad - 

vanta>;c. 
weather-fends,  defends  from  the 

weather,  shclter>. 
wee.  very  small,  diminutive,  shrunk 

up. 
weed,  a  garment,  a  dre*«. 
W^eek.    a    period    of    time    indefi- 

miciy, 
ween,    to    think,    to    »uppo»e,    to 

i  III. limine. 
W^eet.  t.i  know. 

welkin,  the  sky. 

welkin  0'>  *  sky-colored,  a  sVy- 

hluc  eye. 
well,  at  rest,  happy. 

well-a-near,  equivalent  to  «-#//- 

„  ./ay. 
well-liking.       good-conditioned, 

plump. 
W^ell  sr-^n.  well-skilled,  proficient. 

wesand.  th--  tin.. at. 
Wheeson-week,    the    Hostess's 

1.!  ■,]■  d'T  for  U'hitsun-u-rei-. 
whelk'd.  twisted,  convolved. 

whelks,  pustules. 

when?    an     expression    of    impa- 

tif.MU  e. 

whenas.  when. 

Wher.  whether. 
where,  whereas. 

whereas,  where. 

whether,  whichever,  which  of  the 

two. 
whifS.erS.    those    who      precede.l 

armies  or  processions  as  fifers   or 

pipTS. 

while  ""111. 
whileas  while. 
whiles,  until. 

whist.  -I'll    hushed. 

white-livered,   dastardly,    cow- 

..r.llv. 

whitely.  \»>>'tish. 

whitinK-time,  blcaihinkC-tinie. 
whitsters.  11<-...  (■t.  .  ;  I^  r-. 
whittle.  .  '■■•'!  .  ..  ,   .:  .!■ 
whoobub    '  t    '      • 
whoopiuff  -Out  cj  .%il,  <)ut  of  All 

r.rasure. 
wide,  wide  of  the  mark. 


Widow,  to  mkIow  wUli  a  wtdov'a 
'      ncht. 
widowhood,  c«cai«  MitUd  M  • 


wl 
wi 

Wl. 


wil  i 


^Jt  f  ««sal«. 
M,         wild 


wildly.  «liw>rdefly. 

wimpled.    boode«l,    veiled,    blta^ 

r.M-.l 
wind.  I  »  »<«-nt. 
wipe.  br..t>d. 
WiS«      i^fHtUm  ,..     f  J 

uitt-,i.  Tf.  willint;. 
wish,  to  recommrix!. 

wi«t  I  — 

wis* :  ■. 

wit  ««tM«, 

.     _.„....,    .  .  kiMW. 

with,  r  iuivaicnl  to  ry. 

wit-snapper,    one    who    aflvct* 

repartee. 
witty,  knowing. aagacioua, of touad 

ja.!i;Mirnt. 
woe.  »   .'-(ill,  sorrv. 
WOman'd     a   -      ■  ;     ;  ted,    haunted 

woman-tir'd   '  <-    ;-•  Vc,!. 

WOnder'd.  al    r    i      r;!c   t   »    ndcrs 

ni..rvll.wv:>   k^iliri. 

wood.    I'lail 

woodcock,   a  cant  term  for  a  »^ia> 


WOodimiii       I 
wo 


WOO't.  !    r  :i  ;./ 

word,  a  u..t.  >.-»    r  V 

workings,  a  !v  lu'  ..hi. 

world—  1  •'  £''  •'•■  '*'.    '  "  '»<  n»*r» 

lir.l 

world  -  -^  t«v"».««  ty  tk*t  A  wmt 

tied  -...nan 


worm    •  -<■: . 
woi-xi-;! 

wort  !i 

'    nor.   to   dig 

r.  w«al>h 

worts  -''  ^" 

J.  o(  Dol-^etbau 

wot.  to  know. 

wot    -  t 

wouM 

WOM'      1 

wra    -v 

wr<-.^  'V 
wr»  ••  • 

wr.  • 

wrii.w 

3b 


WRI TE—ZODIA  CS. 


write,  to  write  or  style  one's  self. 

•WTitMed.  wrinkled. 

•wroth.,  Wroatk  is  used  in  some  of 
of  the  old  books  for  hnisfortune, 
and  is  often  spelt  like  rUth, 

"WTOUgrht,  agitated. 

■WTying",  swerving,  going  astray. 

Y. 

yare,  ready,  nimble,  handy. 

yarely,  readily,  actively. 

yaw>  to  move  on  unsteadily,  to 
swagger,  to  vacillate. 

y-clad,  clad. 

ycleped.  called,  named. 

ycliped,  another  form  of  the  pre- 
ceding. 

Yead.  an  abbreviation  o{  Edward, 

yearn,  to  grieve,  to  vex. 

Yedward,  a  familiar  corruption  of 
Mdweird, 


yellowness,  jealousy, 
yellows— 77/^,  jaundice. 
yeoman,   a  sergeant's  or  bailiffs 

follower. 
yerk,  to  jerk,  to  fling  out,  to  kick, 

to  strike  with  a  quick  smart  blow. 
yest,  the  spume  on  troubled  water, 

foam. 
yesty,  spumy,  frothy, 
yield,  to  requite, 
young",  early. 
younker,  a  mvice,  a  greenhorn,  a 

young  gallant. 


zany,  a  buffoon,  a  merrj'-andrew, 

a  mimic. 
zed,  properlj"^  used  as  a  term  of  con* 

tempt,  because  it  is  the  last  l«tte9 

in  the  English  alphabet. 
zodiacs,  years. 


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